


Deep roots are not reached by the frost

by stardust009



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Epilepsy, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, OCD, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2018-04-16 07:48:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 58
Words: 322,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4617180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardust009/pseuds/stardust009
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Athos and Porthos are partners, both at work for Treville's Special Investigations Team and at home on a more personal level. Happy and content in their relationship and careers, their lives take a turn for the unexpected when they're given their latest mission - to bring down Marsac's prostitution and drug empire. </p><p>They decide the easiest way to do this is via one of his most beloved prostitutes, Aramis. The two arrest the damaged man for solicitation and give him no other choice but to help them bring down Marsac. Although reluctant at first, Aramis soon begins to respect the officers and Athos and Porthos unwittingly fall for the prostitute but are they putting Aramis into danger that they can't rescue him from?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Assignment

**Author's Note:**

> “Nothing can dim the light which shines from within.”   
> ― Maya Angelou 
> 
> Story title borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien.
> 
> Original story request here - http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/2286.html?thread=3508206#cmt3508206
> 
> From the smallest of seeds a tree grows. I wasn't even going to do another modern AU but I read the prompt and thought 'that sounds interesting' and now it has turned into an epic story which explores obsessive compulsive disorder, anxiety attacks, epilepsy, childhood abuse and goodness knows what else.
> 
> I have either myself experienced the above or I have friends that have/do. I hope that I will tackle these issues with sensitivity, maturity and, above all else, honesty.
> 
> As well as my usual mix of swearing and sex, this story has an M rating because the very nature of this story means it will obviously cover some very adult themes. Nothing, however, will be overly explicit or graphic.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the ride...

Not even the second mug of strong black coffee was enough to stop Athos from yawning as he sat at his desk; his perfectly organised desk where everything had its place and a function. In fact he got momentarily distracted by the fact his stapler was slightly crooked so he re-adjusted its position which made him automatically feel better. When he had first joined the team Porthos' favourite game was mess up Athos' desk and see how he reacted. Now Porthos understood about the desk, now they all understood about the desk and they left the items on Athos' desk exactly where Athos needed them to be.

“I thought you'd both be home sleeping,” came the lone female voice in the office. Athos briefly glanced up to look at Constance who was pouring herself her own cup of coffee from the awful coffee machine that Athos refused to use. Not only was it unsanitary but it also tasted disgusting.

“I just had some paperwork to finish,” he explained before picking up the file and waving it about a little. “What's this?”

Constance squinted over, trying to decipher what Athos was waving in his hand but then she remembered an earlier conversation with the Captain and the brown file made sense.

“Oh, new assignment but you weren't supposed to see it today. The Captain is going to brief us all in the morning.”

Athos nodded and placed the file back down only to re-open it and give the front page another read. It was about a man named Marsac, a drug-dealer and brothel-keeper. He wondered if the captain's of vice, narcotics and the Special Investigations Team had all picked straws as to who would deal with case and S.I.T had won...or lost, depending on how you look at it. Athos hated dealing with pimps. He found them to be even more narcissistic and unpleasant than drug dealers, if that was at all possible which, sadly, it was.

“Don't worry about it now,” Constance said, walking closer to Athos as she stirred her coffee. “Get some rest. Come back refreshed and raring to go in the morning. Where's Porthos?”

Constance knew about their relationship but she was the only one who officially knew. Captain Treville knew as well but he didn't 'officially' know because if he 'officially' knew then he'd have to transfer one of them to a different unit and he didn't want to lose either of his best detectives. Constances' new partner would probably find out soon enough but, at the moment, he was oblivious and somewhat clouded by the excitement of his promotion to detective and his hero-worship of Athos.

“Home. Probably shaking the walls with his snoring about now.”

Constance chuckled. “Then go home and join him. The paperwork can wait until tomorrow.”

Athos knew that she was right. He opened his top drawer and placed the file into it. His top drawer was for his current cases and the file at the top was always the file which he needed to look at next. Then he closed the drawer, opened it, closed it, opened it and closed it again. Then he turned his desk light off, on, off, on and off. Once he had done his rituals he was able to stand up and slip on his jacket.

“I'll see you tomorrow then,” he said which made Constance smile.

“Goodnight, Athos.”

Athos had been right about Porthos. By the time he got home all of the lights were out and he could hear snoring coming from the top of the stairs. He slipped off his black shoes and placed them in the correct space at the right distance from his other shoes. Then he went upstairs and tried to get ready for bed as quickly and quietly as possible. When it was time to get into bed he pulled back the duvet and pressed the bed-side light switch five times before settling next to Porthos who seemed to mumble something sleepily to himself and rolled over to face Athos, throwing his arm across Athos' chest in a manner which Athos was becoming quite accustomed to.

“You said you'd be back ten minutes after me,” the sleepy man mumbled into the darkness. “I don't think you've been ten minutes.”

“Sorry,” Athos said and hoped that Porthos was too tired to properly question how long Athos had spent at the office once Porthos had left. They had been awake for good thirty-six hours but Athos never felt happy unless he had his paperwork finished. Porthos didn't seem to share that particular issue. In fact it was struggle getting Porthos to do any paperwork as he was more of a field detective or so he claimed. Less office-based, more people-based. Perhaps that was why Treville put them both together because they complimented each other. Obviously at that time Treville didn't know that they'd become partners in a whole different way.

“Don't matter,” Porthos sighed and pressed a kiss against the side of Athos' head before resuming his snoring.

The following morning Porthos seemed far happier after a good nights sleep and, whilst Athos hadn't slept as much, he did feel more focused. They arrived at the office a few minutes early for Treville's usual daily update and they weren't the first there, their new rather overeager recruit was already sitting at his desk reading through their new assignment.

“Athos!” he said, the moment he saw the other two arrive. Porthos gave a little chuckle and winked at Athos. Porthos teased Athos about the fact their youngest member had a crush on him but Athos knew that wasn't the case. It was more admiration although Athos had no-idea why.

“Good morning, d'Artagnan,” he said, attempting to be friendly towards the young man. D'Artagnan was already jumping out of his seat and he managed to bash his leg on the corner of his desk which made Athos flinch but d'Artagnan didn't appear injured as he came over.

“Have you seen the new assignment?” d'Artagnan asked and held out the same sheet of paper which Athos had in the top drawer of his desk. “Marsac. He's runs a gang of prostitutes but is also involved in drug dealing. I wonder why we're after him though. I wonder why vice aren't taking this...”

“I'm sure the Captain will tell us very soon,” Athos pointed out in order to stop the young man from thinking too much. Athos had already discovered that d'Artagnan's mind seemed to whirl at a hundred miles a second. He was bright but didn't have a lot of control over his thoughts which often jumped all over the place. Athos was sure that, once he mastered the ability to focus, he'd make an incredible detective.

Soon enough they were indeed sitting in the briefing room around a small conference table, just the five of them with Captain Treville up at the front once again attempting to figure out how to use the new power-point system. The others probably could help him but his lack of ability with technology always brought them endless amusement and the chance to chat whilst they waited.

“I promise you it was a good movie!” Constance was insisting as the others teased her about it.

“Predictable, soppy, ridiculously unrealistic....” d'Artagnan intervened; for he was the one who had been dragged to the theatre to watch it with her. Porthos was chuckling at the pair of them.

“Don't put him off,” Constance said, swatting the young man's arm. “I think he and Athos would like it.”

Athos never joined in with the banter but he liked listening to it. The others always amused him even if he didn't often show it. However, Treville eventually managed to get the picture up on the screen and smiled at himself for his achievement.

“Right, pay attention,” he said and they all stopped talking immediately to turn to the front and give their respected Captain their full focus. On the screen was a photograph of Marsac. Athos had already read the file so knew that the photograph was two years old and taken when he had been arrested for possessing class A drugs with the intention to supply only to then have the case collapse and he was let off.

“This is Marsac. A few years ago he was just a small time pimp working with some street prostitutes and only using drugs for the purpose of controlling them. Now he has at least three brothels and has become one of the biggest street dealers of heroin and cocaine in Pigalle. He's a violent, intelligent offender who is making a lot of money by ruining a lot of lives. You should all know this and more if you've read the file I left on your desks. It's time we took him down.”

“Again?” Athos interjected. “Vice tried to take him down two years ago and failed. If vice started it, why aren't they finishing it?”

“They are,” Treville pointed out. “It's a joint operation. Someone from vice should be arriving this morning to work the case with us. They need help. Marsac has a super fancy lawyer and vice have been struggling to get enough evidence to charge him with anything substantial. We have more experience on the narcotics side so I offered our services.”

Treville's gaze remained on Athos for a moment before he turned away to look back at the screen. Athos didn't like that gaze one bit and had a horrible feeling he knew what that gaze meant. Porthos obviously noticed it as well because he shot a concerned look over at Athos. Athos gave Porthos a little shrug. No, surely not? He was distracted from his concerns by Treville speaking again.

“Marsac is smart and uses other people to do his dirty work most of the time so we need a way in the back door. We need to collect evidence over a long period of time from someone close to him.”

“Please tell me this isn't an undercover operation, I'd make a very bad rent boy,” d'Artagnan muttered which made both Porthos and Constance chuckle.

“No,” Treville said with a hint of an eye-roll. He brought up another screen which had two pictures on it. Both were mug shots of two young men. The one on the left was of a teenager with olive skin, short saved hair and a square jaw. The one on the right was of someone a little older, with brown curly hair and a handsome face. For some reason Athos couldn't stop staring at the second picture. It was the eyes. Whilst the young man clearly looked annoyed at being arrested, there was something sad about his eyes. They looked...hopeless.

“This is Phillipe and Aramis. They've been carefully selected by criminal profilers which were helping vice find some possible ways in. Phillipe Roche is one of Marsac's runners. He handles the drugs and passed them out around the dealers. He's young, ambitious and aggressive. He won't want to be working for a boss for too much longer, he'll want to be his own boss and he's also still young enough to perhaps not think twice about stabbing Marsac in the back the first chance he gets. Hopefully he want to turn against Marsac to get him off the patch.

“The other one is known on the streets as Aramis, although that's not his real name. He's one of Marsac's males prostitutes. He used to work on the streets but now he works in one of the brothels. This one is special to Marsac. Aramis has been arrested a few times for prostitution but, every time, Marsac sent his fancy lawyer to get Aramis out and Aramis received a caution or was let off completely. He doesn't do that for his other workers which means Aramis must be closer to Marsac in some way. Any thoughts?”

Treville remained standing as he waited to let the information sink in for his team. Athos sat back in his chair and continued to stare at the photograph of Aramis. He thought about the case but, before he managed to get his thoughts together, d'Artagnan was already speaking up.

“What if we can't turn either of them and they warn Marsac that we're onto him?”

“He knows we're onto him,” Treville explained. “He knows we've been after him ever since the arrest fell apart two years ago. Unfortunately that has only made him cover his tracks even more. He'll be a hard one to catch. We do need some inside information on this one; just doing surveillance won't get us anywhere. He has madame's in the brothels running those for him and boys on the streets selling his drugs. He doesn't often get his hands dirty.”

There was silence for another minute before Porthos decided to offer his thoughts. “Then I'd try Aramis first. If Phillipe is aggressive and ambitious that also makes him unpredictable. Whereas Aramis, well we might not know as much about him but it's always better to use prostitutes as snitches because they're more desperate.”

“I agree,” Athos said, sticking up for his partner. “Aramis is the better choice. We'll be offering him a way out of his life. Phillipe we'll be offering him a leg-up, which means he'll be using us as much as we're using him.”

“But,” Constance intervened. “If Aramis is special to Marsac than that makes things complicated. We need to find out more about Aramis. If Marsac has been looking after him for a long time Aramis may be very loyal to him in a Stockholm syndrome type way.”

“Yes, perhaps,” Athos nodded. “Then that's where we start. We put surveillance on Aramis to find out more about him.”

Treville smiled at them all, allowing himself to be proud for a moment but his eyes were soon distracted by the glass door opening and a visitor joining them.

“My apologies for being late. Traffic was a bitch.”

Athos, who had his back to the door, froze. He didn't need to look to see who it was. The voice itself made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Porthos, however, was sitting on the other side of the table and he looked as shocked as Athos felt as he stared at the visitor. D'Artagnan, oblivious as to who their guest was, just smiled at her.

“Good morning,” he said cheerily. He wasn't greeted with a good morning back, however, as the detective from vice just walked around the table and sat at the other end of it from Treville. Athos finally turned to her. She was as beautiful as ever, her hair half tied-up in a way that looked hap hazed but Athos knew full well took her ages. Her dark eyes stood out even more thanks to black eye-liner and her lips were a bright shade of red. She glanced at him, smirked, then turned her attention into the Captain.

“I assume you started without me? Please do fill me in about where you got to.”

Athos turned away from her because he could tell that Porthos was staring at him with a horrified expression. Athos sighed and tried his best to convey through his face that he was okay, even though he knew that Porthos would be panicking about it.

“For those who don't know, this is Anne de Winter from vice. She'll be the one joining us on his investigation. Anne, we were just going over the two people we could approach about being informants. We've decided that perhaps Aramis is the best bet and that we'll put some surveillance on him.”

“Oh don't bother with the surveillance,” she immediately said. “I can tell you everything you need to know about him. His real name is René d'Herblay and he ran away from home when he was fourteen for reasons unknown but we suspect it was something to do with the Father Vincent case. He hung out with a group of runaways for a couple of years, stealing mostly before he discovered that he could make easy money by selling his pretty young body. So he started working the streets then, when he was about seventeen, Marsac, who was 20 at the time, discovered him and took him under his wing. Since then he has been Marsac's little favourite. I think Marsac is madly in love with him to be honest but Marsac is so fucked up he doesn't really know what love is so he keeps Aramis on the game. Aramis is popular both with the clients and the other workers. I know which brothel Aramis mostly works at and I know where he lives so it'll be easy to arrest him again.”

“So he has been with Marsac for a long time now?” Constance asked the woman who she had heard a lot about but had only met once before when they all did another case together. Athos knew that both Constance and Porthos hated Anne but they had to be professional about having a working relationship with her.

“Yes but he is your way in. The last time he was arrested he almost turned against Marsac but then the lawyer turned up and he became too scared to speak. We need to try again and, this time, we need to do it faster before he gets lawyered up.”

Athos didn't want to speak to her, he really didn't want to speak to her, but they were working together and therefore he would have to. Although he was going to rant to Treville about the situation later on.

“Would it be better if you and Constance dealt with Aramis?” Athos asked Anne, who actually seemed surprised that he was talking to her. “With his history with men, he may well open up more to women.”

Anne shook her head. “No. The criminal profiler said that, if he is one of the boy's that was abused by Father Vincent, then he probably blames his single mother for not protecting him. He gravitates towards men, even those that abuse him, because it's what he's used to and what he knows. If that's the case then it'll be better if you and Porthos take the lead on his. He'll be more comfortable with you two.”

Athos was...surprised that Anne was letting him take the lead but decided not to question it. He knew it was probably killing her to do just that which meant she must feel very strongly that it was the right thing to do. Anne had a very many faults but she was usually very good at her job.

“Fine,” Treville said, closing down the laptop. “Then let's plan an operation to break into the brothel and arrest everyone on the premises for the purposes of getting Aramis into an interview room. Athos, you're running the team.”

They all nodded and, half an hour later, Athos was in the male bathroom scrubbing at his hands obsessively. Porthos soon came in and walked over to the row of sinks, watching Athos.

“How many times have you done it?” he asked sounding concerned.

“Seven,” Athos explained, reaching over for paper towels to pat his hands dry. He threw the towels into the bin then set about washing his hands again.

“So you broke your five?” Porthos asked with a frown, standing there beside his boyfriend and watching.

“Yes, so now I need to go to ten,” Athos explained which made Porthos let out a long sigh.

“No, it means you need to stop,” Porthos said and reached out to place a hand on Athos' arm where he had folded his shirt sleeves up. “Come on, love. Your hands are clean.”

“I need to get to ten,” Athos insisted again and looked down at his hands to make sure that every bit of skin was scrubbed with soap.

Porthos took his fingers away slowly and Athos felt bad. He had no-idea how Porthos managed to put up with him, put up with this but Porthos had the patience of a saint.

“Don't let her do this to you, Athos. Don't let her mess you up. You've been doing so well recently.”

Athos knew that, as much as Porthos always tried to understand, he never could really. Porthos had never been married and had certainly never had the type of relationship that Athos once had with Anne. The controlling, manipulative, intensely insane kind. His relationship with Porthos nothing like that of course. His relationship with Porthos was calm, steady and supportive. Porthos didn't understand and yet Porthos cared, he always cared and that was always enough. Except Athos couldn't stop washing his hands; he still had to get to ten.

So Porthos stood there and waited patiently until Athos had washed his hands ten times. When he had wiped them dry for the tenth time he could finally breath properly again and he felt a whole lot better.

“You good?” Porthos asked and Athos nodded. Porthos stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Athos, pulling him against his chest for a hug.

“I love you,” Porthos whispered as he cradled the back of Athos' head with his large hand. “I love you. Never forget that, okay? Promise me you'll never forget it.”

“I won't,” Athos promised into the shoulder of his lover. “I'm sorry about all of this.”

“Don't be sorry,” Porthos assured him. “Never be sorry. You explained all this from the start and I may not always understand it but I am trying.”

"I'm fine, I'm really fine," Athos assured both Porthos and himself. He was a grown man for goodness sake, surely he could work on a case with his ex-wife and not fall to pieces? He could cope with being in a strictly professional relationship with her without her without turning into a over-dramatic, over-emotional wreck?

"Do you wanna go and organise the stationary cupboard?" Porthos asked, knowing full well how doing such a task always calmed Athos down.

"Yes," Athos admitted. Clearly not capable of not falling to pieces then.

D'Artagnan was oblivious to the drama and almost jumped on Athos the second he came out of the bathroom.

"Next Friday seems to work for the special operations unit if Aramis is at the brothel. Eight SOU officers will be enough, won't it? I could get more but the duty sergeant was worried about paying too much over-time so I said that eight would be fine. Would you like Constance and I to stake out the brothel? Discover the size and how many people we should expect to be there?"

Everything had come out of d'Artagnan's mouth so fast that Athos was finding it difficult to process. The advice Athos had given him about calming down and remembering to breathe once in a while had obviously gotten a little lost somewhere along the line.

"I can tell you all about the place if you like?" came the chillingly familiar voice again and Anne appeared from the briefing room after a conversation with Treville. "I can even draw you a plan of the building."

D'Artagnan turned around to face her but her gaze was on Athos. She always just looked at Athos. Athos had almost forgotten that Porthos was there until he felt the man step a little closer and press his arm against Athos' back. It was reassuring, especially when Anne was standing between Athos and the stationary cupboard.

"Well, if you know so much about this place, why the hell haven't you closed it?" d'Artagnan asked their 'guest'. Finally Anne's attention left her ex-husband and she focused on the new recruit for a moment.

"We close one down and another opens a few days later. And who are you?"

Athos suddenly felt protective of young d'Artagnan and didn't want their new detective to be sucked into the mess that was his past marriage. So he stepped forward to get the young man's attention.

"Take Constance and have a look around the area. We want to make sure that our operation disturbs the local neighbours as little as possible."

D'Artagnan smiled and nodded then went off to find his partner. Athos felt good about himself for a moment. He had just proven that he didn't have to become a quivering ridiculous mess with Anne around. Once d'Artagnan had disappeared as the barrier between them both, Anne smirked at him.

"I need to go and get something from the stationary cupboard," he mumbled. Well...small steps. 

\-------------------

"Are you ever going to talk to me about it?" Porthos asked later that evening when they were home and alone together. Athos knew that it was coming but that hadn't helped him come up with an answer. He was sitting at the table in their small kitchen and Porthos was busy cooking dinner.

"There really isn't much to talk about," Athos admitted. "It's no big secret either."

"Then why won't you talk about it?" Porthos asked as he stirred the pasta sauce on the hob. Athos sighed without meaning to. He loved Porthos and he didn't want their to be any secrets between them but he also didn't want to talk about it because he hated thinking of the past.

"If I have to work with her on a case again, can we at least make home an Anne-free zone?"

Athos could tell that he had upset Porthos by the way the big man turned his back suddenly to him and went quiet. Athos felt bad but, if Porthos wanted honesty, that was him being honest. He let Porthos sulk for a couple of minutes and waited. Porthos was always the one who ended the silences between them because he was the extravert in the relationship.

"I'll be patient, you wanna know why?"

"Why?" Athos asked, but he could already tell from the change in Porthos' tone that he wasn't upset anymore.

"Because I love you." The big man turned and smiled at Athos. A smile which meant I will love you no matter what. Whilst Athos wasn't able to be quite as open and honest about his feelings he hoped that Porthos knew that he felt the same way.

"Thank you," he was at least able to say with as much honesty and sincerity as he could muster. Porthos seemed to approve of that response and piled Athos' bowl with as much pasta as possible. As well as words, overfeeding was another way in which Porthos showed love. Once Porthos had sat down at the table they both tucked into their dinner and thoughts were back on work. They had long since forgotten the 'no work talk at home' rule because it had been too hard. So now the rule was 'no work talk in the bedroom' which meant that the kitchen was far game.

"Do you really think this Aramis will turn on Marsac?" Porthos asked after he chewed and swallowed a mouthful of warm tagliatelle. Athos had been thinking about Aramis a lot and those sad eyes.

"I don't know. He has been working on the game for a good few years now. You know what it's like when people have been doing it for a long time."

"Yeah I do," Porthos admitted. "I know he's probably hooked on goodness knows what and his soul is probably well and truly broken but there was something about him, you know? Just from the picture. You probably think I'm being silly but it made me want to...try and help him."

"Don't," Athos warned. "This isn't about helping him, this is about getting Marsac. Don't get too involved." He knew too well how involved Porthos got sometimes. He knew because some of the waifs and strays Porthos collected had stayed at their house. He knew because one teenager had stolen everything from their old flat including the chairs. He knew because at least once a month Porthos thought about leaving his job because all of the bad things he saw sometimes got a little too much for him.

"Yeah not making any promises." And Athos knew because Pothos made comments such as that.


	2. The Interview

Athos was slightly nervous as lots of faces stared up at him in the briefing room from the Special Operations Unit, Vice and the Special Investigation Team. But he went into leader-mode and didn't let his nerves show; none of them needed to know that he had spent fifteen minutes straightening the pens on his desk that morning just because he knew Anne would be around again. Once everyone had been briefed on the operation, Athos headed straight towards Constance.

“Anne says that this brothel is mostly male prostitutes so there won't be many women in the building but I need you there just in case there are and we need to search them.”

“Where else would I be?” Constance asked and smiled. Athos nodded his pleasure at her. Out of all of them, Constance was the one who enjoyed the action the most. She was always there on the front line raring to go. Truth was she was probably the best at it as well. Next Athos found d'Artagnan who was rather like an over-excited puppy which was exactly why Athos wanted to find him.

“You'll be in team alpha with me,” Athos informed him. “Stay with me at all times and listen to every word I tell you. Understand?”

D'Artagnan grinned and nodded as he did up his bullet-proof vest incorrectly. Athos stepped forward to assist him. Porthos soon came over, he already had his vest on and was carrying just about everything he needed on his large belt and, Athos believed, stuff he didn't need as well. Still, perhaps one day a mini flare and spray paint would come in useful.

“You're okay to lead the beta team?” Athos asked and got a firm nod from his partner. Whilst he hated splitting himself up from Porthos, there was no-one else he trusted to lead a team more.

When the entire group was outside getting ready to pile into the vehicles Athos went up to each person just to check that they all had their radios on the right frequency, their guns were loaded and they were all wearing bullet-proof vests. He didn't really expect anyone in the brothel to be carrying a firearm but it was always better to be safe than sorry and they had to follow strict police procedures. Athos felt a little like Braveheart for a moment and did debate doing a rallying speech when Anne turned up, wearing bright red high-heels which Athos wasn't very convinced were appropriate for the operation.

“I'll wait at the station,” she informed Athos, thus forcing him to interact with her.

“You're not coming?” he asked, although he felt secretly relieved.

“No. You don't need me when you have such a fine team looking all macho.” She seemed to eye the officers up in a rather disapproving way. “When you're back I'll help you work on Aramis.”

Athos felt confused. He thought that the plan was for himself and Porthos to work on Aramis and he told her as much.

“Yes but I'll be there, just in case you mess up.” She reached out and ran her finger across Athos' jaw which made breathing difficult all of a sudden. His blood boiled with anger at the way she was behaving and he found himself wanting to shout at her but he knew he couldn't do that in front of everyone else, which just set off his anxiety again. Not now, he thought, god not now. Porthos had obviously been watching the conversation because, as soon as Anne strolled off, he came straight over.

“You alright?” he asked, looking down at Athos with a look of great concern.

“I'm fine,” Athos lied. “I just want to...wash my face.”

“You don't want to wash your face,” Porthos assured him, reaching out to touch Athos' shoulder gently. There was something about Porthos' touch which did always help. It grounded Athos in a way he couldn't even understand but he was incredibly grateful for. “You don't need to wash anything or put anything into order. Come on, we're ready to go. We're all waiting for you.”

Athos looked over at the others and realised that Porthos was right; they were all waiting for him. He didn't have time to change or wash or sort out stationary. He would just have to distract himself from the fact he couldn't breath properly and his skin felt itchy.

Driving seemed to do the trick. Athos was so busy concentrating on driving one of the large vans with his colleagues in the back that his anxiety did eventually disappear and, by the time they reached the brothel, he was in control again. He had been told all about the house but hadn't seen it for himself. It was exactly how d'Artagnan and Constance had described it. To anyone else it would look like a three story town house with a messy garden. Athos drove past it and pulled up around the corner, just like they'd planned. He called the undercover surveillance car which had been watching the building all day long.

"Hi Robert, it's Athos. Can you confirm that Aramis is in the building?"

When he got confirmation that Aramis went in at 1700 hours and hadn't left, he felt relieved but there was something else he also need to check.

"And can you confirm that there has been no sign of Marsac?"

When he was assured that Marsac was no-where in sight he picked up his radio and told Porthos that they could go ahead with the operation. There was a part of him that wanted to brief everyone again, to remind them all to treat Aramis no differently to the others, to arrest everyone in the building regardless of who they were. But he knew that he had told them already and they would all follow his orders. He just had to trust them now and trust them he did.

Being in charge of the operation he had to hang back and let the others do the dramatic part. Once they had broken down both the front door and the back door at the same time, they were inside. It was chaotic but it was organised chaos. As soon as anyone was arrested an officer stayed with that person. Athos followed the others in and checked that everyone was okay. The muscle man at on the door didn't even seem to put up a fight, he just accepted the arrest like he was probably used to it. The female madam of the house was a lot more feisty and was shouting a string of abuse in Japanese as he walked past but Constance already had her under control and she was strapping handcuffs to her wrists before she could scratch any eyes out.

Athos worked his way through the rooms, making sure that all of the officers were okay as they arrested both the prostitutes and their clients, averting his eyes a little at the state of undress in which he found most of them in. Once the men, and one female client, had clothes on they were pulled out of the room and into the hallway. He had visited five bedrooms across the first and second floors but, so far, no sign of Aramis. He was in a room with Porthos who was arresting a very embarrassed looking middle aged client, when he began to wonder if they had made a huge mistake and Aramis wasn't even there, until d'Artagnan's voice came over the radio.

"The albatross has landed, over," d'Artagnan's crackly voice said over the frequency. Athos had no-idea what that was meant to mean.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Porthos' voice responded as he picked up his radio. "Where are you?"

"Third floor, over."

Athos sighed; it was his fault, he was meant to be watching d'Artagnan but in the craziness of the situation he'd lost sight of him.

"I'll go," he said to Porthos who had his hands full with the humiliated client and sulky Russian prostitute. "Get these two outside and into the vans."

Porthos nodded and did as he was told. Athos left the room and headed up the last remaining staircase. He was rather hoping that the 'albatross' was Aramis.

The third floor was a lot smaller than the first two but there were a couple of further bedrooms. The first one Athos went into had a bed but no people. It was in the second room where he found d'Artagnan standing over two topless men who were sitting on a double bed with their hands tied behind their backs. Athos immediately recognised one, it was Aramis. Aramis at least had jeans on, unlike his client who was in his underwear and ranting furiously at d'Artagnan who was calmly informing them both of their rights.

"You can't prove that I was even doing anything! You didn't catch me in the act! I could have been here for any reason. I've not paid. It doesn't count when I haven't paid..."

D'Artagnan was obviously trying not to look too smug as he finished his speech before answering back. "Yes I'm sure you were just here for a pleasant conversation on the country's deficit whilst another man had his face in your lap, on a bed...oh...in a brothel."

"What's your name?! I want to see your superior. You can't just hand-cuff me for no reason. I have rights!"

D'Artagnan nodded over to Athos who was standing in the door-way. The ranting man hadn't noticed him before.

"This is Detective Sergeant de la Fere, my superior."

The look of annoyance on an older and superior policeman's face was obviously enough to shut the client up as he suddenly looked sheepish and he didn't speak any further. He just lowered his gaze to the floor and his shoulders slumped in defeat but Athos' attention wasn't really on him, it was on Aramis. So far the younger man hadn't said anything but he had been watching the whole spectacle. When he noticed that Athos was looking at him he quickly turned away and also suddenly found the floor fascinating. Athos studied the man. With his top off Athos could see a couple of healing bruises on his ribs, the ribs which were visible due to malnutrition. Yet he wasn't as thin as a lot of prostitutes Athos had seen and there didn't appear to be any track marks on his arms although Athos would have to look closer to know for sure. Aramis looked in need of a haircut and a good meal, but perhaps not a serious drug user. Or at least Athos hoped that was the case because using heroin addicts as informant's often proved to be complicated in his experience.

"D'Artagnan, help Monsieur Innocent put some clothes on then take him outside to the vans."

D'Artagnan rolled his eyes, something Athos would have to chastise him for later, but he did help the man get up and put his trousers and shoes back on. Athos stepped closer to the bed and closer to Aramis.

"Where are your shoes?" he asked the male prostitute. Aramis nodded over to the chair in the corner of the room and Athos saw a blue duffle bag underneath the legs.

So Athos went over and pulled out the bag. He was a little hesitant at opening it, not knowing how clean it would be inside, but he didn't have much of a choice given the circumstances so he knelt on the carpet as he undid the zip. Inside the bag were trainers, a change of clothes and a couple of books. Athos noticed that one was a Thomas Hardy novel and, slightly surprised, pulled out the trainers and helped Aramis slip them onto his bare feet whilst the man's hands remained tied behind his back.

"You're wasting your time, you know," Aramis said, finally speaking as he stared down at Athos who was doing up his laces.

"Am I?" Athos asked, looking up at the young man.

"Yes, you'll let me go by the morning."

Aramis' was surprisingly well-spoken and Athos noticed for the first time that, as well as having sad eyes, he had a cheeky smile which he was currently displaying to the detective kneeling in front of him.

"If you want to spend some time with me, there are better ways."

Athos knew that he had to be careful what he said. If Aramis was going to ever going to work for them then he needed to trust them and first impressions meant a lot.

"We'll start with this way," he responded and took Aramis underneath the arm, encouraging him to stand up. Aramis did so and wobbled a little but Athos' grip steadied him.

"You okay?" Athos asked, wondering what the wobble was about but Aramis just nodded.

"Come on," Athos said and started pulling him gently out of the room. "I'll get you a sweater at the station and something to eat."

"You're almost making it sound pleasant."

Porthos noticed Athos coming outside with Aramis but successfully attempted to hide the relief he must have felt. Athos pushed Aramis into the back of one of the van's and, it was only when the door was closed, Porthos finally said something.

"Well thank fuck for that," were his chosen words and Athos agreed although he wasn't going to feel completely better until they were all back at the station and Aramis was in an interview room without a lawyer.

There was minor havoc at the station when the team turned up with six prostitutes, five clients, one doorman and the Madame of the house but Athos did manage to slip Aramis through first and get him into an interview room. Aramis had barely spoken through-out the whole ordeal and certainly hadn't asked for a phone-call or a lawyer, which puzzled Athos slightly.

Athos was soon standing in the observation room watching the man through a two-way mirror. Aramis was sitting at the interview table with his hands untied wearing a borrowed dark blue police department sweater which was just a little too big on his slim frame. He looked fed-up as he inspected his nails but the way he also jumped every time he heard a noise coming from outside the room gave away how nervous he must have also been.

It was only another few minutes before Porthos appeared with a chicken sandwich and can of coke in his hands.

"Got him some food," Porthos announced as he went to stand beside Athos. "He asked for a phone-call?"

"No," Athos said. "He might ask for a lawyer as soon as we walk in though so we need to be careful." Porthos nodded and Athos silently reminded himself of the details he had been reading in all of the paperwork Vice had sent over a few days before.

He just about felt ready to start the interview when the door swung open and Anne stepped in.

"I like that Constance," she announced. "She has just taken complete control of the entire custody area. They're all terrified of her."

Athos felt a little bit proud of his detective but then was distracted by a brown file which was suddenly slapped against his chest.

"Photographs of Marsac's last two prostitutes who have ended up dead. First one was beaten to death down an alleyway, second one was found in an abandoned building as a stiff corpse thanks to a heroin overdose. If you need to scare him, use those."

Athos took the file but wasn't going to say thank you. He was too busy trying not to panic about the fact she was standing so close and acting like their years of bad marriage and messy divorce never even happened.

"Go on then," she ordered and, whilst Athos didn't want to obey her orders, he did want to leave the room now that she was in it.

"Come on, Athos," Porthos encouraged, clearly wanting to do the same. So they left Anne in the observation room and went out into the hallway together. Before they went into the room Porthos put a hand on Athos' shoulder to get his attention.

"You need to wash your hands or anything?" he asked, looking concerned.

"No I'm good," Athos assured him and he was in fact being honest. He just wanted to get inside the room with Aramis.

“Good cop, bad cop?” Porthos asked when he removed his hand. Athos shook his head. Aramis was old enough and experienced enough to see through any act. They just needed to be themselves otherwise Aramis was never going to trust them.

“We need to both be nice. As soon as he feels uncomfortable he might ask for a lawyer. I don't understand why he hasn't already.”

Porthos offered a little shrug. “Maybe Marsac always sent the lawyer once he found out Aramis had been arrested.”

Athos contemplated that suggestion for a while and realised that Porthos was probably right. In which case they needed to talk to Aramis as soon as possible, before Marsac heard the news. When they both entered the room Aramis immediately looked up so Athos introduced them both.

“I'm Detective Sergeant de le Fere and this is Detective du Vallon.”

Aramis watched their every move as they both came over and pulled back the chairs on the opposite side of the metal table to Aramis. Porthos immediately put the sandwich and drink down onto the table and pushed them over to their prisoner. Aramis eyed up the food suspiciously and didn't make any move to touch it.

“You not hungry?” Porthos asked. Aramis seemed to frown at them all of a sudden.

“I don't eat meat.”

The comment made Porthos burst out laughing despite himself. Athos just sat there, watching Aramis and trying to read his body-language. Aramis had sat up and smacked his hands on the table but not in a way that seemed remotely threatening; it was rather like a teenager having a huff.

“What? Why is that funny?”

Porthos managed to calm himself down, probably realising that laughing at the man during the first few seconds probably wasn't the best start.

“Nothing,” he assured. “Sorry. It's just that most people from the streets aren't such fussy-eaters.”

“I'm not fussy,” Aramis pointed out, now he was sulking. His bottom lip had started to protrude and he crossed his arms in front of his chest. Athos could already tell that they were getting no-where fast.

“It's fine,” he interrupted. “We'll get you something else. Aramis, you know you're in trouble this time, right? Real trouble. There are only so many times you can be let off with a caution. This time it will be jail.”

Athos watched him carefully and noticed the gasp escape his lips and a momentary flicker of fear in his eyes before he obviously thought about it then shrugged and sunk back into his seat a little more, his arms still folded across his chest in a defensive-manner.

“If you say so,” he mumbled, this time speaking to the wall because he wasn't looking at them. Athos fingered the file he still had in his hands, knowing that Anne was watching them made him nervous. If they got it wrong he'd never hear the end of it. He knew that next they needed to make Aramis believe that they were actually on his side and they cared, even just a little at this stage.

“What would you like us to call you? Aramis or Rene?”

The question made Aramis turn his head and he looked at Athos as if he was suddenly curious about the man. He didn't respond straight away but eventually said, in a rather quiet voice, “Aramis.”

Athos nodded. He had asked, he had been polite, he had acted like it was important to him that he called Aramis by whichever name he chose. He hoped that would win him a tiny bit of trust in Aramis' eyes.

“Aramis, then. Aramis, are you aware of the seriousness of the situation?”

Aramis made a 'pfft' noise and shrugged. “I wasn't even doing anything.”

Porthos sighed, sitting back in his own seat as he eyed up the offender. “I'm afraid that one won't work. You were caught in the act.”

“No I wasn't,” Aramis said stubbornly. “I was having fun with my boyfriend. You can't arrest me for giving my boyfriend a blow-job.”

“And what's your boyfriend's name?” Porthos asked to catch him out. Aramis didn't respond, he just stared.

“I know you don't want to go to jail,” Athos said. “I know the life you lead probably isn't wonderful but, I can assure you, jail is far worse.”

“I know that!” Aramis snapped, reaching out he grabbed the can of coke and opened it up. When he took a gulp Athos noticed that his hand was shaking a little. When he dropped the coke down he made a point of letting it bash against the table. “I know what it's like in jail. You don't need tell me, I've heard. Are you trying to scare me or something? Just put me in a cell already I don't even want to talk to you.”

And that was that, his eyes were back on the wall and not at them.

Athos glanced over at Porthos and Porthos looked at Athos back before leaning forward a little to put his elbows onto the table.

“Aramis...we're not after you, you must know that but you're travelling on a sinking ship. Vice wants Marsac and they're going to make his life a misery until they get him. They'll close down his brothels, arrest all of his sex workers and drug-runners and generally make his life hell. You don't want to get caught up in that.”

Aramis briefly seemed to glance over at them before he turned his gaze away again. “Why do you care?”

“Because we can help you,” Porthos said and that statement got a reaction from Aramis. He unfolded his arms and started to laugh. It wasn't a laugh that reached his eyes though, it was rather fake and really not one of amusement.

“Oh okay, I get it. Here it comes. Go to jail or give us information on Marsac right, that's what you want? I've heard this one before and look, I didn't help you and I'm still not in jail.”

Well, Athos had to give it to him, it had taken him a whole five minutes to figure it out. Athos knew that he literally had seconds to turn it around before Aramis froze up or asked for a lawyer.

“Think about it, Aramis. Really think about it. Those really are the two options this time. Marsac will be arrested, sooner rather than later, and people will go down with him. You will go down with him. Is that what you want?”

“What?” Aramis asked, looking at them both confused. His arms were still crossed in a defensive-manner. “I'm just a hooker. Why do you think I'm going to go down with him? I'm not important.”

Athos realised that there was a lot more to that last sentence than how Aramis had meant it. He knew that, deep down, Aramis probably thought that about himself in many different ways. But Athos needed to focus on the job. He needed to get Aramis to understand so he thought for a moment about his answer and came up with something which was perhaps stretching things a little but it would interesting to see how Aramis reacted to it.

“You're special to him. Do you really think he'll let you stay on the streets whilst he's banged up inside? He'll want you with him and he'll do everything to make that happen.”

Athos knew straight away that he had stumbled upon something because Aramis didn't answer back, he didn't do anything at all. He just stared at Athos with a look of pure terror at the realisation that Athos was probably right. He only tore his gaze away to grab the can of drink and have some more.

“Is that true?” Porthos asked in a tone that seemed so concerned and caring that Athos was glad Porthos had said it, his own voice never sounded that nice.

Aramis opened his mouth to say something but appeared to have lost his ability to speak. “I...I...” he stumbled, his slim fingers gripping the coke can tightly all of a sudden. “...can I have another sandwich? I'm really hungry.”

Porthos sat back and sighed but then began to get up off the seat. “Course you can, mate. I'll be right back.” Aramis watched Porthos leave the room and then they both sat in silence for a while. Athos was doing it on purpose to see if Aramis would initiate a conversation, which he did.

“Are you two in Vice?”

“No,” Athos admitted. “We're in the Special Investigations Unit.”

Aramis tilted his head a little and appeared confused. “No-one has ever considered me to be special before,” he pointed out with a slight smile. “I thought you were narcotics but I don't do drugs,” he admitted in quite a calm and honest manner which Athos actually believed but was incredibly curious about.

“So you're a prostitute that doesn't eat meat or do drugs?”

Aramis chuckled, this time it was a genuine laugh. “The meat thing really confuses you two, doesn't it?”

Athos attempted to smile back. “A little, no offence.”

“No offence taken,” Aramis said with a shake of his head and sounded like he really meant it. “I just watched this video on Mar....on someone's computer a few years back and it was about farming and meat factories and honestly, if you'd seen it, you'd never eat meat again either.”

Athos nodded, picking up on the way Aramis had suddenly stopped saying Marsac's name mid-word. He also thought that it was a little sad that a human who had been treated so badly by society still had it in his heart to care about animals. Athos had no such issues with eating meat. “You're probably right but I haven't seen the video and I'm a huge fan of bacon.”

“Then you should watch the video because bacon won't taste as nice after you've seen it,” Aramis pointed out and Athos mused at what an odd conversation he was suddenly having with the man especially when Aramis continued to go on about the video as they waited for Porthos to return. It began to dawn on Athos that perhaps Aramis just talked a lot about nonsense when he was nervous.

Porthos did come back quite quickly with a cheese sandwich which Aramis was grateful for but then proceeded to tell them about how should really give us eating dairy as well as he ate the cheese sandwich and told them all about how they got cows to produce so much milk. Athos and Porthos listened politely and it was when Aramis had finished his sandwich that his mood suddenly changed. He leaned forward in his seat and stared at the pair of them.

“Please,” he suddenly said. “You can let me off again. You don't need to charge me. Please...please...I'll do anything...”

“Aramis...” Porthos tried to interrupt him but Aramis was on full-on begging mode. His eyes were even watering up in a way which Athos assumed was good play acting.

“Please...I haven't done anything bad. I just make money to buy food and pay my rent. I live in a shitty little apartment full of cockroaches and the window has this hole where the wind blows in during winter and it's so cold.”

“Marsac makes you live there?” Athos asked, thinking that it was a strange way for Marsac to look after someone he supposedly loved.

“Yes he doesn't...” Whatever Aramis was about to say got forgotten as then he pulled himself back on track again and put his hands together as he stuck them out in the table in front of them both, almost praying. “Please...please don't put me in jail. I'm not one of the people you're after. I'm a no-body. You don't really want to lock me up, do you?”

Athos was getting a little lost in the pleading eyes which were breaking his heart just a little when there was a loud bang on the mirror which made Athos jump. Aramis immediately looked over their shoulders curiously trying to see was standing behind the mirror. The other two knew full well who it was.

“Do excuse us for a second,” Athos said and got up from his chair. Porthos, looking none too happy, did the same. Whilst Athos wanted to ignore Anne he knew that she wouldn't stop knocking unless they went to see her so see her they did and she didn't look very impressed.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she asked when they went back into the observation room. “He's running circles around you. All you've managed to do is make him admit to the fact he's a fucking vegetarian. Show him the pictures. He's scared of going to jail, make him scared really shitless.”

Athos sighed at her which he knew would piss her off but he didn't care. “He hasn't even asked for a lawyer so we've gotten further than your lot ever did.”

“Bullshit. He never asked for a lawyer with us either. One just appeared after a while and it'll happen soon now considering some of the others are making full use of their one phone-call. Trust me, we got a lot further than this. You two are useless.”

Well that answered that lawyer question Athos had in his mind.

“Ignore his cute little puppy-dog eyes,” Anne suggested rather harshly. “And give him some cold hard truths and facts. Show him the pictures of how well Marsac protects his own. Tell him that, if he goes to jail, he'll become someone's pretty little bitch.”

Athos suddenly felt his body being twisted by Anne and shoved out of the door. Porthos growled at her but followed behind.

“God I hate her,” Porthos pointed out.

“I need to think,” Athos admitted and started walking towards the bathroom. He could hear Porthos sigh behind him but Porthos followed. In the bathroom Porthos stood there and Athos paced.

“Are you stressed or thinking?” Porthos asked as he watched.

“Thinking,” Athos admitted and he was being honest because he didn't feel anxious, he felt determined but he did need to calm down and focus his thoughts so he went over to the sink and began to wash his hands. “So, let's re-cap, Aramis knows he might go to jail this time and seems genuinely scared but he's also willing to put on an act to get himself out of it. He lives in a grubby apartment, according to him, which seems strange if Marsac does favour him.”

“Maybe it's a control thing?” Porthos suggested as he leaned against the wall. “Aramis doesn't appear to be a junkie so maybe Marsac forces Aramis to still be living like that because then Aramis still needs Marsac for money, food and a roof over his head. However horrible the roof might be, it's still a roof and that's something for an ex-street kid. Marsac can take away that money and that house. Aramis needs Marsac.”

Athos began smiling as he dried his hands then set about washing them again.

“What you smiling at?” Porthos asked curiously.

“I was just musing about what an intelligent man you are, Porthos.”

“I ain't,” Porthos said and Athos could have sworn that he'd actually managed to embarrass his partner in every sense of the world. “Not like you.”

Athos shook his head fervently but then got distracted thinking about Aramis again. The lost handsome creature that was currently sitting in their interview room. Athos remembered once again how he had found him in the brothel.

“He had bruises on his ribs. Marsac might also be physically abusive.”

The thought made Porthos take a sharp intake of breath and Athos worried that he was ringing the 'I want to help him' bells inside Porthos' head so decided to put a stop to those thoughts before they properly started.

“We need him to be our inside man, Porthos. It'll put him in danger. Don't get attached.”

The fact Porthos went to get a chocolate bar and another can of coke for Aramis before they went back into the interview room made Athos worry that Porthos already was.

Still, they were soon back in the room and Aramis was smiling away at Porthos who smiled back as Aramis happily chewed on his chocolate and Athos realised that Anne was partly right, they really weren't getting anywhere and time was running out.

“Aramis, if you help us gather information on Marsac we can protect you whilst it goes to court,” Athos promised. “We'll put you up in a safe house for a while until things calm down and then you'll be free to go where you like.”

“Wonderful,” Aramis said blankly, the smile now removed from his face. “Then I can go sell my body in another city. What an exciting prospect.”

“We can help you find a new job,” Porthos offered and, whilst Athos knew that wasn't quite the job of a S.I.T detective he wouldn't put it past Porthos to do just that.

Aramis rolled his eyes as he opened up his second can of coke. “I'm not sure my CV will be all that impressive. Skills, bending over. Talents, sucking cock. Experience, lots of it.”

Athos sighed and lowered his head slightly, looking down at the brown file which was sitting on the table. He reached out and slowly opened it up. He had Aramis' attention, he was watching what Athos was doing as Athos read the brief descriptions of the crimes on small yellow cards attached to the pictures. Athos then removed the two photographs Anne had provided and spread them out in front of Aramis.

“Did you know these two?” he asked the other man. Aramis studied the photographs for a moment before leaning back in his seat to get away from them.

“Why are you showing them to me?”

“These...” Athos said, tapping them both. “...is how well Marsac looks after his own. This is how much he cares. We know he likes you, Aramis, but he's a criminal. This is the world he lives in. This is what happens to others like you. Do you think just because you've survived this long you'll survive forever?”

One of the pictures seemed to be getting more attention from Aramis than the other. The picture of the dead beaten-up prostitute lying beaten and covered in blood down the alleyway. Aramis was staring at it.

“You'll either end up in jail or end up like this, Aramis. Hardly anyone in your line of business survives to a good old age.” Athos felt cruel and unkind for pointing it out but perhaps he had to. Perhaps Anne was right, they needed to scare the man. “And in jail it'll be vile for you. You'll be used and abuse just as much, but they won't pay you in there, Aramis. You won't be doing it for food or a home; you'll not have a choice.”

“Athos...” he heard Porthos whispered out of the corner of his mouth but he could tell that it was working, Aramis looked closer to tears so Athos leaned forward to push him just that little bit further.

“Do you want to end up like this...” Athos slammed his hand down against the photograph Aramis was still staring at. “...or in jail, Aramis? Because those are the only two options you're giving yourself. Dead or in jail. It's a miracle you've survived this long the way you are but your time is running out.”

Athos paused for a moment to let it all sink in for Aramis but the man remained silent. Athos looked down at the photograph. It was quite horrific. The lad in it looked so young, younger than d'Artagnan. He had been beaten so violently that his face was a bloody mess and he was lying on the wet ground of the alleyway with his trousers still down his thighs.

“What was his name?”

Aramis looked up finally at the question and stared at Athos, his mouth hanging open a little, his face full of emotion and he paused, hesitated, before whispering, “Fredrick.”

“And you knew him?” Athos asked although the answer appeared to be a little obvious but he wanted to get Aramis talking.

“Yes,” Aramis whispered again, nodding slowly, his eyes filling with tears. “Marsac sometimes put him in the brothels when we were short. Most of the time though he worked the streets.”

“And did he deserved that?” Athos asked firmly.

“No!” Aramis immediately said, shaking his head, a tear escaping the corner of his eye and rolling down his cheek. “No, he was a sweet kid. His stepfather...he ran away...he always saw all this as a temporary thing. He wanted to be a musician.” Aramis sniffed and lifted up the sleeve of his jumper to wipe the tear off his cheek.

“Did you know this had happened to him? Would you like me to give you the details? I can tell you all about how this happened. You see he took his john down the alleyway then, whilst the man was behind him and fucking him, the man wrapped hands around Fredrick's neck and began to strangle him....”

“Stop,” Aramis pleaded but Athos, as cruel as he felt, knew that he was finally getting to him.

“Fredrick would have passed out and fallen to the ground. The man then used Fredrick's head as a football. Kicking it whilst he was still alive until his skull cracked...”

“Stop!” Aramis screamed and shoved at the photograph to push it away but Athos grabbed it and held it in the air, showing it to Aramis again.

“They never even found who did it, the man is still walking free. This is going to be you, Aramis. This will happen to you. Marsac doesn't love you, he's using you. He knows you're one of his most popular workers and he doesn't want to lose your trade.”

“Shut-up! That's not true!” Aramis cried, turning away from the picture and looking towards the door like he wanted to make a run for it.

“Dead or jail, Aramis. Which one are you going to chose? Will this be you in the alleyway or you in a prison cell?”

“No!” Aramis screamed and suddenly stood-up. His legs pushed the flimsy chair back and it fell to the ground. “You don't want to help me! You just want to use me!”

Aramis stumbled away from the table and headed towards the corner of the room. There he sank down and curled up facing away from them. Athos turned to see that Porthos was sighing at him. Porthos was clearly unhappy with Athos, even though Athos knew deep down Porthos understood that Athos was just doing this job. Athos could have also sworn he could sense Anne smiling at him from behind the mirror. But it was Porthos who stood up and slowly walked over to Aramis, making sure that he didn't get too close and make the man panic.

“We do want to help you,” Porthos said gently as he knelt down on the floor. “We want to help you and all of the other people Marsac puts in danger by getting them hooked on drugs and forcing them to sell their bodies for it. We want to stop him. We want to do that because he's ruining lives.”

Aramis spoke with his face in his hands. “If you get rid of Marsac someone else will replace him. There will always be someone else.”

Porthos sighed and wasn't really able to argue with that logic but he knew there was something he could do. “But you won't be a part of it. You can leave all of this behind. Aramis...we're offering you a chance of a different life. You might not get this opportunity ever again. He won't hurt you anymore if you help us and we can get him. He won't hurt you or anyone else.”

And there it was, Athos mused. Porthos had remembered what Athos had told him in the bathroom about the bruises and had used the information at just the right moment. Clever man. There was silence in the room for a while and Athos continued to sit on the chair, realising that he had indeed become the 'bad cop' but he tried not to feel bad about it because he knew he had done it for the right reasons and Aramis genuinely seemed to be thinking about their offer. Eventually the man on the floor lifted his head up and looked at Porthos. He had red, wet eyes and he gave Porthos a little nod before sniffing.

“Okay...I'll do it. But not for me, for people like Fredrick.”

 


	3. The First Meet-up

Athos felt exhausted as they both watched Aramis scurry out of the police station with Athos' phone-number written on a plain card tucked safely into his back-pocket. He had a horrible feeling that they'd never hear from Aramis again but there was also a small part of him that was clinging onto some sort of hope that they had gotten through to the man. Porthos let out a sigh once Aramis was out of sight and turned to go back inside. Athos followed.

“You did a good job in there, Porthos,” Athos encouraged. He was well aware both as a colleague and a boyfriend how Porthos sometimes struggled with the things they had to do at work. Porthos had often talked about leaving the police force altogether but Athos suspected Porthos stayed mostly to keep an eye on him now. Athos was grateful for it deep down; Porthos gave him the strength to keep going himself.

“If we end up finding his body somewhere, I'm never gonna forgive myself,” Porthos mumbled which made Athos pat him on the back in an attempt to show his understanding.

“He's smart, he'll be fine,” Athos tried to reassure his boyfriend and also reassure himself. An informant of his had died before and, even though it was drugs related and really there had been nothing Athos could have done, it was something he often thought about and felt incredibly guilty for. “I need to go and check on things before I go home, is that okay?”

Porthos nodded and left Athos to it. So Athos checked in with Constance and d'Artagnan who had both done a fine job of dealing with the influx of people in custody. Then he sat at his desk and made sure that everything was in its right place and in order before feeling relaxed enough to go home.

It was three nights later when Athos was woken up by his phone buzzing on the night-stand. He always left it on during the night for emergencies but no-one usually rang unless it was something really important. With bleary tired eyes he reached out and lifted up the phone to check the caller ID. It was a number he didn't recognised. So, with his head still firmly attached to the pillow, he pulled the phone to his ear and grunted a bit of a 'hello'.

“Is that...is that de la Fere?” a shaky voice asked on the other end.

“Yes,” Athos said and licked his dry lips, still far too dopey to really register what was happening. Until the person spoke again...

“It's Aramis.”

Suddenly Athos was very awake and he pushed himself up until he was sitting. “Aramis?” he asked, a stupid question considering he had just been told. There was silence at the other end of the line and Athos squinted over in the darkness to his clock which had bright red numbers telling him that it was two-thirty in the morning. “You okay?” he said when Aramis appeared to continue being quiet.

“Can we meet?” the voice on the other end eventually said and it sounded so scared that it made Athos worry but he tried to keep calm as he felt Porthos shift and move in the bed beside him.

“Of course. Now?”

“If that's okay?” Aramis sounded unsure if he was even allowed to suggest it.

“Yes, yes it's okay,” Athos reassured him, pressing his naked back against the headboard. “Where do you want to meet?”

“There's a truckers cafe called Galina which is open all night long. Do you know it?”

Athos didn't but he also didn't want Aramis to panic that Athos would get lost and not show up so he decided to lie. “Yes, I can be there in thirty minutes.”

“Okay,” Aramis said and then the phone-line went dead.

“Dammit” Athos muttered and Porthos moved again, rolling onto his side.

“What?” he asked in the dimness of their bedroom.

“Aramis wants to meet.”

That woke Porthos up, he pushed himself up in the bed until he was sitting as well. “Where?”

“Some cafe I don't know called Galina, I'll have to look it up.” Athos could vaguely see Porthos and it was only then that something occurred to him. “I'll have to go alone. He doesn't know that you live with me. I should have asked him if I could call you.”

“Don't worry,” Porthos immediately said but pulled back the bed-covers as if he was going to go anyway. “I'll drive you there and wait in the car around the corner. I know where that cafe is, they serve good breakfasts.” He leaned forward to give Athos a quick kiss roughly on the lips then they both clambered out of bed and got dressed.

When Athos arrived at the cafe it was quiet apart from a couple of guys eating large meals which Athos found odd at three in the morning and a very bored looking woman behind the counter watching what was happening on the TV screen. So it only took him seconds to notice Aramis sitting at a table beside the window in scruffy jeans and a dark sweater, looking lost in his own world as he stared outside. In fact he jumped when Athos came over like he wasn't expecting to be spoken to. Athos immediately noticed the cut on the corner of his eye. It had obviously been stitched up because it was covered in steri-strips and it immediately made him worry but he tried his best not to show it as he looked down at Aramis' coffee mug which was almost empty.

“Want another one?” he asked and Aramis nodded without speaking. So Athos went over to the counter and asked for a pot of coffee with an extra mug. He needed to wake up after all. The lady begrudgingly said that she'd bring it over and Athos half-smiled his thanks before walking back to Aramis and sitting in the chair opposite him. He hadn't washed. He hadn't had the time to shower and so he felt disgusting and dirty but not keeping Aramis waiting had been more important so he tried to distract his mind from the issue and focus on the man in front of him.

“Are you alright?” he asked. He was far more concerned about that than any information Aramis might have for them. As if knowing what Athos was probably alluding to, Aramis reached up and gently touched the healing cut on his forehead. He fingered two of the steri-strips gently before dropping his hand back down.

“Yeah, I fell over and hit my head.”

Athos frowned and sat back in his chair. Fell over and hit his head, my arse, he thought but didn't say it out loud. Still at least Aramis had been seen to and he had stitches. It didn't look red and infected which was something. Aramis wasn't looking at Athos again, he was staring out of the window so Athos had to continue the conversation.

“Why did you want to see me?” he asked and, this time, when Aramis turned his head back he was smiling.

“Because I missed you,” he teased and it did make Athos snort.

“I'm pretty certain that's not the case,” he said and reached out to rearrange the sauce sachets into groups because it was driving him mad. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Where's your partner?” Aramis then asked and actually looked around the cafe as if he had been expecting Porthos to be there. Aramis actually seemed disappointed that he wasn't which Athos noted in his head and it didn't surprise him, Porthos had been the 'good cop' after all.

“In bed,” Athos lied because he knew full well that Porthos was in the car out of sight. “I rushed over here, I didn't have time to call him.”

“Oh okay,” Aramis reached for a coffee stain on the table and started scratching it off with his thumb. “I've been thinking a lot about what you both said,” he admitted and Athos didn't butt in, he kept quiet to give Aramis the time to continue. “I will help you.”

Athos nodded, that was a start. In fact he was quite pleased that Aramis had been giving it some thought and wasn't just doing it because they had pressed him into it.

“That's good,” Athos said with a nod. “You're doing the right thing.”

The comment made Aramis sigh as he continued to scratch the table. “I don't know about that but things are getting...out of control. Marsac is getting...out of control.” Athos could tell that Aramis was choosing his words carefully before he spoke. He waited again to see if Aramis would continue but the man didn't. Instead there was silence between the pair of them until Athos' attention was back on the cut.

“Did he do that to you?” he asked with concern. Perhaps that was what Aramis meant by getting out of control.

“No,” Aramis frowned and shook his head. The stain had gone so he stopped scratching at it and actually looked up at Athos. “I told you, I fell over. I'm actually being serious about that.”

Athos nodded but didn't quite believe it only he didn't have the time to question it because Aramis continued.

“Things are getting out of hand. Marsac used to be different, kind actually but now he just has so much going on and has made so many enemies. He's not the same anymore he's not...well. I've realised you're right, he does need to be stopped as much for his own sake as everyone else's.”

Despite the fact the reasons why Aramis now wanted to help Athos found quite heart-breaking and he wondered if Aramis had any comprehension of everything Marsac had done to him, he was pleased that Aramis had changed his tune and was now more willing to assist with the investigation.

“What do you need me to do?” Aramis asked but then froze suddenly when the waitress came over with a fresh pot of coffee. Athos thanked her but waited for her to be out of ear-shot again before he refilled Aramis' mug and poured one for himself after inspecting the second mug to make sure that it was clean.

“We need information. We know all about the brothels but it's the drugs we can really send him away for. We need names of who he works with, locations of where the drugs are stored, dates of when shipments are coming in and whatever else you can give us.”

What Athos said made Aramis sigh loudly. He was fingering the top of his coffee mug as he waited for it to cool down a little. “I don't know much about the drug side of things,” he admitted, sounding deflated already.

“Is there anyway you can find out?” Athos asked, pushing him on it a little. Aramis went quiet and lifted his mug up, blowing on it before taking a sip. He was obviously thinking.

“I could try,” he finally promised after swallowing some hot coffee down. “Give me a couple of weeks, I'll do what I can.”

Athos nodded, he knew that they'd appreciate whatever Aramis could give them. He watched as a smile appeared on the other man's face as he stared down at his coffee.

“I found this dog,” Aramis suddenly told him. “A stray. A scruffy blond thing. I've seen him down this alley a couple of times beside a restaurant foraging for food in the bins. He was so thin, you could always see his ribs. I managed to catch him the other day and I put some string around his neck and brought him back to my apartment. I gave him a proper meal and a wash and now I can't seem to get rid of him.”

Athos smiled at the story because he could tell that the dog had obviously brought Aramis some joy by the way his face had lit up as he told Athos about it.

“I let him come and go, you know? I don't want him shut in the house. So he goes out sometimes but always comes back. He sleeps on my bed which is nice because he's warm. I'm sort of hoping that he might stick around.”

Once the story was clearly over Athos tried his best to show some interest.

“Have you named him?”

Aramis then gave him eye-contact again and still had the smile on his face. “Frodo because...well...I like those books.” His smile faded and he almost looked embarrassed about the admission which gave Athos an idea.

“Aramis, when we meet again, would you like me to bring you some books?”

Aramis' eyes went wide and he looked so surprised at the suggestion Athos was worried that he'd scared him.

“Why..why would you do that?” Aramis asked.

“Because you seem to like reading,” Athos pointed out, rather wondering why the offer was so shocking to the man in front of him.

Aramis didn't seem to know what to say for a while, he studied Athos for what felt like an age before a slight blush appeared on his cheeks. “That would be very kind,” he finally said so Athos nodded his promise and smiled. Aramis smiled back. “You know I actually finished reading Lord of the Rings whilst I was working because the guy fucking me was taking so long to come that I reached out to grab my book and...” as if suddenly realising that he shouldn't be telling Athos that story he abruptly finished it with. “...yeah that's not the sort of story I should share.”

“It's okay,” Athos reassured him. He knew what business Aramis was in so nothing was going to shock him in that regard.

Aramis seemed to quickly down more of his coffee then moved to get up. “Thanks for the drink,” he said and Athos watched him as he stood.

“You're welcome. Say hi to Frodo for me.”

The comment made Aramis smile again just before he walked out of the cafe. Athos watched him go and mused that the man still looked too slim but that wasn't his problem. He took his time finishing off his own coffee. In fact he took such a long time that Porthos appeared and stumped down onto the seat which Aramis had vacated a few minutes before.

“I saw him go,” Porthos pointed out before he was told off. He then looked into Aramis' half empty mug and shrugged being pouring the rest of the coffee pot into it. The action made Athos shiver as he thought of drinking out of someone else's mug but then reminded himself that Porthos cared a lot less about such things.

“How did it go?” Porthos rightfully questioned.

“He's worried about Marsac's behaviour. It sounds like it's getting a little erratic. So he said that he'll help us, which implies he had just said he would before to get out of the police station but now he really will. I asked him to find out more about the drug side of the operation. He said he'll do what he can.”

Porthos nodded, placing his arm across the back of the chair next to him. Porthos never did 'fit' very well into seats. “And how is he otherwise?”

Athos tried not to roll his eyes but somewhat failed which caused Porthos to give him an innocent shrug and a bit of a smile.

“He's fine. He has a cut on his head but he insists that was an accident. He told me about some stray dog he seems to have formed an attachment to.”

“Poor little mite,” Porthos said with a sympathetic sigh and then, to clarify, added, “I mean both the dog and Aramis.”

“Don't get involved,” Athos warned him sternly which earned him another innocent shrug which Athos knew was anything but innocent.

\--------------------

“Athos!” Captain Treville yelled and Athos got up from his desk to walk into the Captain's office. Treville sat back in his fancy chair, the one who had taken the Captain at least half-a-day to assemble but he assured the others it was good for his back, even though he had his hurt back further whilst trying to put it up.

“How is the Marsac case coming along?”

“We're still waiting to hear from Aramis,” Athos explained. “Porthos and I have been going through all of the old cases connected to Marsac or issues in that area involving drugs and prostitution and we've identified a few names that we believe may well be connected to his business.”

“Good,” Treville said with a nod. “Whenever d'Artagnan and Constance aren't working on other cases I'll get them to help you as well. What do you think of d'Artagnan?”

The question rather coming out of no-where surprised Athos a little so he took a moment to gather his thoughts before answering my honestly. “He's very keen and very smart. He'll make a fine detective once he has honed his...enthusiasm.”

Treville laughed at Athos' description before telling him, “He thinks the world of you. Whenever he's in here it's Athos this and Athos that. I can see Constance getting more and more jealous by the second.”

Athos wasn't entirely sure why Constance would be jealous but he dismissed the question when the phone in his pocket began to buzz. He reached in to get it before realising that he was being rude.

“Sorry, Captain. Was there anything else?” he asked, the buzzing phone in his hand.

“No, Athos, get your phone-call.”

Athos nodded at him and answered his mobile with a hello.

“De la Fare?” the voice on the other end asked and Athos recognised it immediately.

“Yes, Aramis?”

“Can we meet again? I've got a problem.”

\---------------------

Athos brought Porthos with him on the second occasion and Aramis' face lit up when he saw the other detective. Aramis has asked to meet them at a well-known day-center for the elderly although Athos had no-idea why.

“Thanks for coming,” Aramis said and, before they had a chance to even ask him what was going on, Aramis disappeared into the building. Athos looked at Porthos and they both shrugged before they followed him in.

“I need you to meet someone,” Aramis told them as he led them down the corridor. Athos really hoped that it was something to do with the case although when he turned the corner and was greeted by a room full of old-age pensioners playing cards and chatting, he started to have some doubts. Aramis guided them right over to an old lady and an old man playing chess.

“Excuse me,” Aramis politely said to the old man and then leaned down to place his hand on the back of the old lady's chair and spoke to her in fluent Spanish. Athos could vaguely understand the odd word here and there and deciphered enough to figure out that Aramis was telling the old lady that they were policemen and here to help but, apart from that, he didn't understand much. But the old lady looked at them with great joy.

“This is Senora Rosario,” Aramis explained once he was addressing Porthos and Athos again. “She lives close to where I work and I help her with her shopping sometimes. She's having problems with her landlord. The water has been cut off in her entire building and he's saying that he'll have to increase their rent otherwise he won't put the water back on.” Aramis looked pained about it all and then the lady started babbling away in Spanish. Aramis listened and nodded once in a while before looking back at the others to translate.

“She says that she has lived there for twenty-five years and there used to be a nice landlord called Mr Sauvage but he had to sell his buildings due to ill health and her new landlord is...unkind.”

Athos suspected that Mrs Rosario used more words than just unkind but he accepted that description for the time-being but, before Aramis went any further and before the lady had a chance to talk again, Athos stopped them.

“Aramis, we work for S.I.T. This isn't something we deal with.”

Aramis appeared surprised. “But you're the police and surely he's breaking the law? He can't just cut off their water supply.”

Porthos took a step forward and, as always, showed more concern than Athos did with the situation. “Tell me where she lives and I'll look into it for you.”

Aramis smiled and said something to Mrs Rosario about how the policemen were going to help which seemed to make her happy again and she clapped her hands with pleasure. Athos stared daggers into Porthos' back even though Porthos couldn't see. Aramis continued to talk to the old lady for a while longer before she reached out and squeezed his arm affectionately.

“I'll leave you both to your game,” Aramis eventually said in French and walked away from the table. He then began to walk out of the room so Athos and Porthos followed.

“Was that what you brought us here for?” Athos asked, slightly annoyed at the waste of time Aramis had just put them through.

“No,” Aramis snapped but then said no-more as he walked out of the day-centre and back out into the street. Once he was outside he obviously felt like he was finally allowed to state his mind. “Why is getting you cops to actually help good people who are in trouble is like getting blood out of a fucking stone?”

“Hey,” Porthos protested. “I said I'd help.”

“Yeah you did,” Aramis said and eyed Porthos up and down for a moment. “But your partner doesn't seem interested.”

“My partner is very...focused on bringing Marsac down,” Porthos explained, trying to defend Athos' behaviour in his own way.

“Yeah, well, as one good turn deserves another...” Aramis mumbled grumpily and then dug into the back pocket of his ripped jeans and pulled out a small sheet of paper. He held it out to Athos who took it, despite his worry about where the paper had been, and looked at the list of numbers scribbled onto it.

“I wrote down some of the numbers on Marsac's phone,” Aramis explained. “I don't know if it'll be any help to you though.”

Athos now looked down at the dirty piece of paper like it was made from gold, which it may have well been. “No this...this is wonderful. Thank you, Aramis.”

As Athos continued to study the paper to see if how many were mobiles and how many were land-lines and which area codes they were. There was silence for a while until Porthos began asking Aramis different questions.

“How's the dog?”

When Athos looked up again Aramis was grinning. “Oh, de la Fare told you, huh? Yeah he's good. He doesn't go out so much anymore, he just stays in my apartment. Which is nice because it's like having a guard-dog, you know? Although I doubt he'd actually scare anyone off, more like lick them to death.”

“He sounds very sweet,” Porthos told him, his smile matching that of their informant's.

“Marsac doesn't know I have him,” Aramis admitted, his mood suddenly turning a little more somber. “He wouldn't like it but I don't think he'll ever find out. He never comes to my flat anymore anyway. He just visits me at the brothel or I get picked up in one of his cars and brought to him.”

Athos' interest in the conversation perked up a little bit more at the mention of Marsac.

“Do you get to see him very much?” Porthos asked. When it came to situations where they were interviewing people in the streets, Athos usually let Porthos do most of the talking. He was far better at it. Athos just seemed to rub most people up the wrong way because they probably thought he was aloof.

“Maybe once or twice a week. Not as much as I used to. Back when I first met him he wanted to be around me all the time. Now he's busy I guess. I miss him.”

Aramis dropped his head and his foot started to swipe across the floor and Athos noticed how despondent he seemed about the fact Marsac's attention was now elsewhere. Porthos at least had the sense not to say anything unhelpful about how it was probably for the best, which is what Athos wanted to say. Instead Porthos said something far more sympathetic if not somewhat silly.

“Well his business has grown so yeah, he's a lot busier,” Porthos offered which made Aramis nod sadly but then, as if suddenly remembering something, his head snapped up to look at Athos.

“Did you bring me any books?”

Porthos also looked at Athos confused and Athos suddenly felt really bad; he had completely forgotten.

“Oh umm...no sorry, I rushed out. I forgot to bring them.”

“Oh okay,” Aramis mumbled but clearly it wasn't okay. The disappointment on his face must have tugged at Porthos' heart-strings because, before Athos had to the chance to stop him, he made a suggestion.

“You know there's a book shop just around the corner right? Why don't we go there?”

Aramis grinned from ear-to-ear and Athos had literally no-idea what was going on apart from the fact his boyfriend and their informant had started walking down the street together. He shook his head and sighed before reluctantly following them both.

“You know he could get in serious trouble if he's seen with us,” Athos whispered side-ways out of the corner of his mouth as Porthos leaned against a book-shelf grinning as they both watched Aramis floating around the book-shop like an over-excited child.

“Look at him though,” Porthos mused. “Look at how happy he is.”

Athos actually growled and turned around to step outside and get some air. He would have to lecture Porthos later about getting attached but, for now, he'd just let it happen.

Twenty minutes went by before Porthos and a very happy Aramis appeared out of the shop. Aramis was carrying a bag which must have had at least three books on it.

“Thank you,” he said and flung his arm around Porthos' neck, pulling the man down in order to plant a kiss on his cheek. The action shocked Porthos as much as it shocked Athos but neither said anything. Porthos just continued to smile politely when Aramis let go.

“Have to get to work,” Aramis said as casually as if he just did a desk-job. “I'll phone you again if I find out anything else.”

And, with that, Aramis walked off and left them both standing outside the bookshop watching him go.

“You're gonna make me shower five times before you touch me again, aren't you?” Porthos said, staring at the back of Aramis as he started to become a small person in the distance.

“I didn't say that,” Athos protested.

“I know,” Porthos responded coolly. “But I could tell by the look on your face.” He then chuckled.

Once they were home Porthos did shower to make Athos comfortable, then the slightly younger man began to cook as Athos sat on the rug with his laptop and the list of phone-numbers on the coffee-table. Both the kitchen and the living-room were part of an open-planned room which rather suited them as Porthos liked to cook and Athos liked to work, so at least they got to see each other.

“Most of these are mobile numbers which, if they belong to drug-dealers, probably won't stay active for long,” Athos told Porthos as his dinner was being cooked in the kitchen behind him. “But there are two land-line numbers. We could get a court-order to tap them.”

“Yeah worth a try!” he heard Porthos saying. “I don't know how Aramis did it. It was very brave of him.”

“Yes,” Athos concurred and could only assume that Aramis copied the numbers when Marsac had passed out from sex but, as Porthos had said, that had been very brave. If Marsac had caught him, goodness knows what would have happened.

“He's a funny guy, isn't he?” Porthos continued. “Had people using his body for probably as long as he can probably remember, lives in a shitty apartment and yet he has a heart for stray dogs and poor old women who have had their water cut off.”

“Mmm,” Athos said, typing another mobile number into the police system to get a data tech to do some investigating. “Maybe it's his way of ignoring his own problems, by focusing on helping others with theirs.”

“Yeah...” Porthos paused. “Yeah, that's very insightful, Athos.”

Athos smiled a little at the comment. “I can be insightful on the rare occasion.”

“And that's what I love about you. Hey, do you want salad on the side of your meal?”

“Yes please,” Athos requested just before his phone began buzzing on the table. It was a local number which he didn't recongise so he picked it up and a female voice on the other end of the line spoke to him.

“Hi, I'm sorry to bother you. I'm a nurse at the American hospital of Paris. We've had a man come in unconscious and I checked his phone and yours was the last number he dialed. I'm hoping you'll be-able to tell me who he is.”

The last number...Athos racked his brain at who that might have been. The only calls he'd had all afternoon were from d'Artagnan and Aramis. The first time Aramis had called it had been a payphone number but the second time it did appear to be from a mobile.

“Can you describe him for me?” Athos asked as his heart pounding, hoping that nothing bad had happened to either of them. Yet, as she described the age of the unconscious man who had been brought in, Athos immediately knew that it was not d'Artagnan but Aramis who was in trouble.

“Can I ask what's wrong with him?” Athos asked and the nurse seemed to go quiet on him which made Athos realise that, perhaps, he was asking too much. “Sorry, I'll come to the hospital. Yes he is a friend. I'll be right there.”

Athos turned the phone off and got up onto his feet. “Porthos, Aramis is in hospital.”

He heard the crash of some cutlery before Porthos quickly turned off the stove.

It didn't take them long to reach the American hospital of Paris and, once they began flashing their badges, it took them even less time to find Aramis dressed in a hospital gown and seemingly well awake. In fact he was trying to gently bash the nurse away who was attempting to stop him from pulling off the monitors.

“I'm fine,” he was insisting and only froze when he saw the two of them appear in the treatment room. “How the fuck did you know I was here?” he asked, his mouth open in shock.

“A nurse called me,” Athos explained and then went over to the nurse who had been trying to help but was currently looking quite flustered at Aramis' behaviour. Athos gently took her by the arm. “Excuse me, may we talk outside?”

He left Porthos with Aramis as he guided the nurse out into the corridor and briefly wondered if he should flash his badge at her but then decided that he might actually get more information if he pretended to be a concerned friend.

“Can you tell me how he is?”

The nurse brushed some of her hair which had fallen out of her ponytail back behind her ear. “I can get the doctor to talk to you, if you like?”

“No, it's okay,” Athos insisted, the doctor would probably ask more questions. “Is he well enough to go home?”

The nurse nodded. “He seems to be. The doctor wants to go over his medication just to make sure he's taking the right combination but Rene seems quite insistent that he wants to leave. And he isn't hurt, he just needs to rest but then he knows that.”

Athos nodded, trying to act like he knew what she was talking about even though he had no clue. “So his medication might be wrong?”

“Well this is his third fit in a month he said, so it might be worth re-assessing it. But we can't force him to stay. Maybe you'll have better luck.” She began to move. “Sorry, I need to go and check on another patient.”

Athos nodded his thanks and stepped aside to let her leave before pondering what she had just said. Medication...fits...what was wrong with Aramis? He pushed back open the door to the room to discover that Porthos had at least calmed Aramis down and Aramis was sitting upright with a bunch of pillows behind his back.

“Are you alright?” Athos asked because he actually found himself caring.

“Yes, I'm fine,” Aramis insisted, playing with the hospital band on his wrist. “Your snitch is still alive. Thanks for checking, you can both go now.”

Porthos, who was sitting beside the bed, looked over at Athos. “What did the nurse say?”

“That they might need to re-adjust his medication because this is the third fit he has had in a month.”

The information made Porthos frown and he looked back at Aramis. “What you on medication for?” he just came out and asked. Athos always admired Porthos for his tender bluntness.

“None of your fucking business,” Aramis snapped although there was no anger behind his words. He just looked down at the hospital band on his wrist and began twisting it around even faster.

“Are you not well?” Porthos continued to probe as Athos stood at the foot of the bed. Aramis looked different in the white hospital gown. Younger perhaps, vulnerable certainly. It made Athos want to protect the poor ill creature sitting on the bed before realising that he was turning into Porthos and so he tried to dismiss the thought. It was bad enough that Porthos always got too involved.

“I'm fine,” Aramis attempted to assure them both with a grumpy tone and began to get up again. “Please, go away. I have to go back to work.”

“You can't go back to work,” Porthos said firmly and placed his hand down on Aramis' shoulder to stop him from moving off the bed. Athos immediately saw the flinch on Aramis' face and the way he cowered away from Porthos' touch. Porthos must have seen the fear as well because he promptly removed his hand and backed-off, sitting back in the chair.

“Aramis,” Athos said as he joined in despite the sense in his head telling him to stay out of it. “The nurse said you must rest, please listen to that advice.”

“Never before have I had two handsome men so concerned for my well-being,” Aramis said with what looked like a fake smile, glancing between the pair of them. “I am greatly flattered but, honestly, I'm fine and unless you're going to help me out with all of the money I'm currently missing out on by being in here, then I'm not really interested in continuing this beautifully memorable and touching moment.”

Porthos sighed and then reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet.

“Porthos,” Athos warned, tiling his head to the side with a disapproving look but Porthos ignored his partner and pulled out a few big notes, placing them down on Aramis' lap.

“There,” Porthos said. “Now for the love of god go home and sleep. I don't know what's wrong with you but you need to look after yourself.”

Aramis appeared absolutely flabbergasted. He stared at Porthos, stared down at the money, then stared up at Porthos again like he couldn't quite believe the detective had just done such a thing.

“I...” he couldn't quite seem to get the words out. He reached out slowly and picked up the notes in his hand. “I...”

“Do you want a lift back?” Porthos asked, acting like he had done nothing special as he got up from the chair and stood. Aramis was still in too much shock to really speak.

“I...no...no...”

Porthos nodded. “Looks like your clothes are over on the table there. We'll wait outside just to make sure you're alright.”

Porthos walked past Athos but Athos soon followed until they both found themselves back out in the corridor where Athos felt an absolute responsibility both as Porthos' partner and boyfriend to chastise him for what he had just done.

“That was completely inappropriate,” Athos told him firmly.

“I know,” Porthos admitted, already looking guilty. “It just sort of...happened. I'm sorry.”

“He'll expect money from us all the time from now on,” Athos said, he wasn't quite finished. “You've changed the relationship. Now it won't be about him empowering himself, it'll be about him wanting payment.”

“I know,” Porthos growled although he sounded angry at himself and not Athos. “I just couldn't face the thought of that poor guy going back and letting some stranger fuck him right after he just had a fit. I'm sorry, Athos, but I couldn't. He's obviously not well and we're using him.”

“We're not using him,” Athos insisted. “He wants do to this, remember? He thought about it and he wants to do it. He's scared of what Marsac is turning into. I think, deep down, he loves Marsac and he believes he's trying to help him.”

“Yeah he does,” Porthos agreed and then they both remained silent for a few minutes until it dawned on Athos that Aramis was taking a very long-time to get dressed.

“Stay here,” he ordered Porthos, still slightly mad. The very traits of Porthos' personality which he loved him for at home frustrated him when they worked together. Athos went back to the room and pushed the door open to peek in only to discover that Aramis hadn't even moved from the bed. He was sitting in his hospital gown with his face in his hands. Athos could tell from the way his shoulders were shaking that he was crying. Athos didn't know what to do but, after having told Porthos off for caring too much, he knew that he had to stick to his own rules.

So he quietly closed the door and shouted, 'Hurry up!' though it so Aramis wouldn't know that he had been seen. Porthos frowned disapprovingly at Athos' unkind behaviour and Athos was glad that Porthos hadn't seen Aramis crying at least because goodness knows what Porthos would have done, probably given the poor man a hug.

When Aramis did emerge a few minutes later fully dressed his eyes did look a little blood-shot but the man also looked exhausted generally so Athos was hoping that Porthos wouldn't notice.

“You sure we can't give you a lift, mate?” Porthos asked, ever the concerned gentleman. Aramis seemed to muster up a smile and reached out to pat Porthos on the chest.

“You've already done enough, thank you,” he said and seemed to genuinely mean it. “I just need to sleep.”

Aramis turned and walked off down the corridor and, when Porthos seemed to step forward, Athos wondered for a moment if he was going to have to reach out and physically restrain Porthos from going after him but Porthos seemed to stop his motion and stood there watching as Aramis disappeared around the corner.

“He was crying,” the taller man said which made Athos rolled his eyes, wondering briefly how Porthos managed to know everything.

“Porthos...” Athos began but, before he could finish his sentence Porthos did it for him.

“...don't get involved, I know.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [None of this story has been beta read so forgive any mistakes and everything I know about the police force and the law comes from watching TV cop shows so please also forgive me for anything which isn't accurate, I will try my best.]


	4. The Dog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Thank you for all of your words of encouragement and kudos!]

At the station the following day, Athos began to assemble a board on the wall which showed all of the people and connections which they had established so far. Athos always found it useful to visualise such maps and it also gave him a chance to colour co-ordinate pins and pieces of string which he always found entirely satisfying. D'Artagnan stood there watching him and then asked a million questions which Athos answered with as much patience as he could muster although, truth be told, he had a real soft-spot for d'Artagnan. He liked young detectives who weren't afraid to put in some hard-work and prove themselves and d'Artagnan seemed to be very determined to do just that.

“So nothing much yet then? Just a few possible connections to other dodgy characters in the area.”

Athos nodded at the young detective's observations. “Yes, at the moment. But we're hoping that we'll get the phone taps approved on the two land-line numbers Marsac had on his phone. That might give us something.”

D'Artagnan nodded then noticed a name which was familiar to him on the board. “Vadim? You think he's connected to Marsac somehow?”

“It's possible,” Athos explained. “Marsac must get his supply from somewhere.” He pointed to the picture of Marsac on the board; it was his mug-shot from the day Vice arrested him two years before. “He controls the deals on the streets, he gives the dealers the merchandise but I don't think he's the one who ships the merchandise in. During a raid on one of Marsac's brothels three and a half years ago, two prostitutes were found to be carrying heroin. Both of them had small packets of heroin wrapped up with a red skull and crossbones stamped onto it. Now the red skull and crossbones was a supply going round that narcotics had linked to Vadim at the time.” Athos pointed to another picture of a tall, lanky man that the police department knew very well. He had already served ten years in prison but had been released five years ago.

“Maybe you should see Aramis if he has heard of Vadim?” d'Artagnan suggested which Athos actually thought was a very helpful idea. “How is Aramis doing?” d'Artagnan then went on to ask.

“He hasn't given us anything apart from the phone-numbers yet,” Athos pointed out. “But it's something. I'm sure I'll hear from him again soon.”

D'Artagnan nodded then suddenly stood up a little straighter. “Oh! That woman from Vice phoned asking for you. I think you were in the bathroom so I said you were out. She wants an update on the case. She said she'll come in tomorrow if you don't call her before then and umm...something about painfully pinning you down with her high heels.”

Athos, trying not to show the utter horror he felt at the possibility of seeing Anne again in person, wasn't able to hold back a small frown. “I'll call her.”

D'Artagnan hadn't stopped staring at him. “You don't like her, do you?” The observant lad asked, although Athos suspected that it was probably quite obvious.

“We have...history,” Athos explained but he didn't want to say more than that. He could feel his chest begin to tighten and had to start taking quick breaths to get some air into his lungs.

“Are you okay?” d'Artagnan asked, tilting his head to look at the older man concerned. “You've suddenly got a bit pale.”

Athos couldn't speak, he couldn't breathe either, he began to hyperventilate. He also felt irritable and itchy and he either wanted to scream or cry but couldn't do either so, instead, he walked past d'Artagnan and headed towards the bathroom. Porthos had obviously been watching because he got up from his desk and followed Athos into the men's room.

Athos went straight over to the sink, ran the hot water and folded his shirt sleeves up. Then he pumped some soap into his hands and began to scrub them clean.

“What's wrong?” Porthos asked as he stood a couple of metres away. He seemed to think that, in such situations, it was best to give Athos space which Athos secretly hated because Porthos holding him made everything feel that little bit better but he considered it needy to ask. As Athos scrubbed the soap between his fingers he felt frustrated with himself for the control his stupid rituals had over him.

“Athos? Talk to me.”

So Athos did, whilst he was cleaning the germs and dirt off his hands. He wanted to at least try to explain it to Porthos even though he was never quite able to find words which were really useful in expressing his feelings. “Even if I just hear her name now it sets me off,” he mumbled.

“Oh,” Porthos seemed to say but then didn't say much else and Athos knew why; his ex-wife constantly coming up in conversation was probably something Porthos was getting quite sick of. Whilst Athos loved Porthos he often worried that he'd just brought stress and drama and crazy OCD into Porthos' life which Porthos didn't deserve. The thought made Athos feel even more annoyed and he quickly wiped his hands dry with the paper towels, threw the towels away and then reached for more soap.

“You can go back to your desk,” Athos suggested because the silence felt awkward.

“No, I think I'm just gonna wait for you to get to your five,” Porthos told him calmly. “I'll wait right here for you.”

Athos nodded and, for some reason, the fact that Porthos just wanted to stay for no other reason than to be close, helped Athos calm down. By the time he had washed his hands for the fifth time they felt dry and a little sore but he could breathe again. In fact he closed his eyes and smiled a little as oxygen filled up his lungs.

“You good now?” Porthos asked from somewhere which sounded far closer than where he had been standing a moment before.

Athos reopened his eyes and discovered that Porthos was indeed right beside him. “I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm sorry, Porthos.”

“Hey, if you apologise one more time for his, I'm going to smack you,” Porthos promised then wrapped his arms around Athos and gave him a hug and, whilst he knew that Porthos probably needed the hug as much as he did, it felt good. He sunk against Porthos' broad chest and allowed himself to feel comforted in his strong arms but only for a moment because the door swung open and d'Artagnan suddenly stuck his head in.

“Athos, your mobile keeps ringing.”

Then, as if not even caring that he'd walked in on his two male colleagues hugging, d'Artagnan just closed the door again and Athos slowly pulled back.

“I'd best go and check who it is,” Athos said although he was half dreading it in case it was Anne but he had never given her his new mobile number so it seemed unlikely.

When he got to his phone which he had left on his desk in perfect symmetry to his three black pens, he picked it up and checked the missed calls. The number which had been dialing was the same mobile phone that Aramis had used before. Athos called Porthos over and rang Aramis back. It was picked up almost immediately.

“De la Fere?” Aramis asked on the other end.

“Yes,” Athos responded. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Aramis quickly said and, in fact, he really didn't sound fine at all. “Something awful has happened. Can you come round?”

Athos was about to agree straight away but then he paused and stopped himself. They were starting to become Aramis' port of call for any sort of disaster he ever had in his life and that wasn't what they were there for so, feeling like a monster, he tried to control the urge he had to help. “Aramis, is this related to what we're doing?”

There was silence on the other end of the line followed by a loud sniff. Athos briefly panicked that he had really said the wrong thing but suddenly Aramis' voice burst through the phone again.

“I really need your help, please! You have to come! Please!”

There was something clearly wrong and Athos' police training suddenly kicked in whilst he was trying to ignore Porthos' concerned fidgeting going on in front of him. “Aramis, are you in danger at this very moment? If you are, say 'please' again.”

“What?” Was the response. “I'm not in danger. I just need your help.”

“Aramis,” Athos said again, knowing that he had to make sure just in case Aramis had misunderstood. “Is anyone with you at the moment? Say 'get here quick' if there is.”

There was a pause on the other end again and this time Athos suspected that perhaps he was just confusing the man. Judging by Aramis' next statement he was correct.

“What the fuck are you on about? Just come to my apartment. Put your police sirens on!” Aramis quickly told Athos his address, not realising that Athos already knew, then hung up.

As soon as Athos lowered his phone Porthos was frantic about it.

“What's going on? Has something happened to him? Is he in trouble?”

“I have no-idea,” was Athos' honest answer. “But we should sign out some guns just in case.”

D'Artagnan immediately bounced forward from no-where which actually made Athos jump. “Need help?”

“No thank you, d'Artagnan,” Athos said, moving around his desk to get the keys to the black Citroën he and Porthos always used. “Just please tell the Captain that we've gone to Aramis' apartment if he asks. We'll have radios with us.”

It didn't take them much time at all to get out of the police station and race off in the car. Whilst Porthos usually like to drive he was too concerned about Aramis to argue with the fact Athos had jumped into the driver's seat. Athos glanced over at him every now and then as they headed towards Aramis' apartment.

“Porthos,” Athos warned with just the one word. He knew that Porthos would understand exactly what he meant by the one word as well.

“If I wasn't worried then I wouldn't be human,” Porthos mumbled before looking out of the side-window. Athos shook his head disapprovingly but he couldn't help but notice the butterflies which were currently flapping around in his own stomach. What if Aramis was injured? Had he had another fit? He did seem terribly upset. What if something had happened to Marsac?

When they got to the right apartment block Athos parked down a side-street but, when they got out, he started to become a little nervous. A group of teenage boys standing on the corner of the street were eyeing up the car with far too much curiosity for Athos' liking. And he knew the area well, car theft was all too common. So Athos lingered with the car, watching the group of lads before Porthos' voice caught his attention.

“What you standing there for? Athos, hurry up.”

Athos turned to see that Porthos was already opening the front door to the building and Athos realised that, if Aramis really was in trouble, he was far more important than the car. So he silently prayed to a god he didn't believe in, that the car would be safe as he followed Porthos. Right in the lobby there was a teenage girl rocking her crying baby in a pram whilst she shouted down her mobile phone. They both walked past her towards the lift which, judging by the state of the button which was hanging from the wall by the wires, wasn't working. So they went for the stairs instead which sank of urine and there was a small collection of needles and empty vodka bottles at every corner.

“Aramis wasn't lying,” Porthos muttered as they went up to the second floor. “This place is a real shit-hole.”

It wasn't much longer before they found apartment 25 and Athos let his fingers stroke the handle of his gun, whilst his left-hand knocked. The door promptly flew open and Aramis was there, his eyes were as blood-shot red as they had been when Athos had last seen him at the hospital, so he had obviously been crying.

“Aramis, what has happened?” Athos asked calmly and Aramis left the door open for them as he walked back into his apartment. Athos and Porthos exchanged a confused look but followed. They walked the few short steps of Aramis' hallway before going into what must have been the main room because it housed a table, a sofa and a bed and there, right in the centre of an old rug, Athos saw what the problem was; there was a scruffy mongrel dog lying on its side and not moving.

“I don't know what's wrong with him,” Aramis whispered and promptly knelt down beside the dog, reaching out he stroked the dog's yellow fur slowly. “He doesn't want to eat and now he doesn't want to move. I carried him over to the vets but they wouldn't take him because I don't have money or insurance.” Aramis' bottom lip was shaking furiously and Athos could tell that he was trying not to cry in front of them.

“Oh, Frodo,” Porthos said sympathetically and went straight over to kneel on the rug opposite Aramis and have a look at the dog himself.

Athos wanted to bash his head against the wall. They had rushed all the way over for a dog! Unbelievable. He sighed and turned away from the pair fussing over the homeless mutt and studied Aramis' apartment a little more. It was clean, mostly. Aramis had obviously made some effort to keep it in order but that was helped by the fact there was barely any furniture or belongings. Just books and clothes which were dotted around. Apart from that Aramis didn't appear to have much at all only bed sheets, a small TV which was sitting on a box and a guitar leaning against the corner of the room. There were two other doors which Athos assumed must have been some sort of kitchen and bathroom. Athos also noticed the broken window Aramis had told them about before; someone had taped a black bin-bag over it.

“There are vets run by charities which will help. Hold on,” Athos could hear Porthos saying and, before Athos had the sense to stop him, Porthos was on the radio to d'Artagnan. “D'Artagnan, I need you to me a favour, search for vets in the area that will treat charity cases.”

Athos rolled his eyes but found himself not even having the energy to argue with Porthos about it. Porthos was going to help Aramis and the dog whatever Athos said so Athos just decided to keep his mouth shut and use the opportunity to snoop around.

“I just need to use your bathroom,” he mumbled but the other two were far too focused on the dog to even be listening. So Athos found the door which led to the bathroom and went inside. He never used any bathrooms apart from ones which he deemed sanitary and acceptable which weren't two words he'd use to describe Aramis' bathroom but it gave him the chance to look around. He also promptly discovered where Aramis spent most of his money. The table beside the sink was covered in after-shave, shampoo, lotions and various other products that Athos wouldn't have even known what to do with. Still, if your job relied on you looking beautiful, Athos figured that Aramis would have to make a bit of an effort.

He used a tissue to cover the handle of the bathroom cabinet and opened it up. On the top shelf he found a few pots of medication. He stood on his tip-toes to read the labels and memorize them in his head...carbamazepine, clobazam and acetazolamide. Athos had never heard of any of them but he mentally noted down the names to look-up later.

“Athos!” he heard his name being yelled from the main room so Athos promptly used the tissue to flush the toilet, threw the tissue into the toilet bowl then re-appeared answering to the summons. Porthos was standing there with Frodo in his arms.

“D'Artagnan got back to me. I need you to drive.”

So, once again deciding that there were just some arguments which weren't worth having, Athos found himself driving an ill dog and their informant to the a vet's fifteen minutes away. Once there they were whisked in, or at least Aramis and Porthos were, Athos decided to stay outside in the waiting room growing wary of a rabbit which seemed to be staring at him like he was the devil. Soon the other two had joined him out in the waiting room whilst Frodo was taken off to have some X-rays. Aramis was quite distraught and Porthos was trying his best to comfort him.

“He probably just ate something funny,” Porthos reassured the man by rubbing Aramis' back slowly. “You know what dogs are like. They'll eat anything.”

Aramis was nodding as he sat forward with his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his hands. Athos was just trying not to shake his head and roll his eyes too much, hoping that Treville would never find out about this but suspecting that he might.

Eventually, after what felt like many hours for Athos but probably had only been one, a young female vet appeared and Aramis immediately jumped up. The vet came over with a smile on her face which Athos hoped meant that she had good news.

“Frodo has a stomach full of worms which is very easy to treat. We'll keep him in for the night because he's dehydrated and give him some medication. But he'll soon be back to normal and I'll talk you through how you can prevent worms in future.”

“Oh thank goodness! Thank you!” Aramis cried and immediately flung himself forward, wrapping his arms around the vet he gave the woman a squeeze. The vet seemed surprised at first but then she chuckled.

“You're welcome,” she said warmly and, once Aramis had removed his arms, she told him to leave his contact details at reception and they'll call him when Frodo was ready to go home.

Aramis was a different person in the ride home, happily chatting to them both in the back of the car about Frodo and the dog his grandmother used to have that only had three legs. Athos half listened just in case Aramis said anything which would be useful but he didn't, just blabbering away about animals the entire ride home. But, as soon as they reached his apartment block and Athos pulled up on the side of the road, Aramis suddenly leaned forward between the two front car-seats.

“Senora Rosario told me that the water had come back on. I don't know if either of you two had anything to do with it but, if you did, thank you.”

Porthos turned back to Aramis and gave him a nod with a small smile. Athos had forgotten all about the old lady but he suspected that Porthos hadn't and the water coming back on was probably down to him.

Aramis seemed hesitant to get out of the car. He reached up and placed his hand on Athos' seat which made Athos a little uncomfortable but he kept his mouth shut because he could tell that Aramis was building up the courage to say something.

“I umm...” Aramis began. “I was with Marsac last night.”

There was a pause and they all stayed silent, Athos was waiting to see if Aramis was going to continue, Porthos appeared to be doing the same. Eventually Aramis did but only after he had sighed and sank back to properly sit in the car-seat.

“...he had a phone-call and he got all angry. So he went out of the bedroom but I could still hear him because he was shouting so loudly. He ummm...he was saying that he didn't care if the police seized the last lot, he needed his supply. He said that he'd lose business if he didn't get it soon because people would start looking elsewhere. And he was just getting really mad. He said that if it wasn't with Gilles by the end of the weekend, he'd have to get his supply from someone else.”

Aramis stopped talking. Athos looked at him in the read-view mirror and noticed that Aramis was staring out of the window and looking a little nervous. So he promptly decided to reassure him that they appreciated his bravery.

“That's really good, Aramis,” Athos said softly. “That's really helpful. Did you hear any other names? Or places? Times?”

Aramis shook his head from side to side. “Just the end of the weekend and he said something about...I can't remember. Something about how there had never been this much trouble before boats were used. I don't know. I can't remember anything else.”

“Aramis...” Athos turned in the car-seat to look at the man in the back. “Thank you.”

Aramis glanced at Athos almost shyly and gave him a little smile before opening the car-door and promptly leaving. Once the door was slammed shut Athos sighed and twisted back to face forward. Porthos had been unusually quiet through-out the whole thing so Athos then turned his head to look at him. Porthos was chewing on his bottom lip but, instead of feeling sympathetic, Athos felt exasperated.

“For goodness sake, Porthos,” Athos said firmly, turning the car engine back on and glancing over his shoulder to check for traffic before pulling out.

“We can't do this to him. We can't put him into danger.”

“We already are and he already is,” Athos pointed as he began to drive them back to the station. “In fact he has been in danger his entire life. At least we're giving him a light at the end of the tunnel.”

“Are we?” Porthos promptly asked. “What happens if we arrest Marsac? What will really happen to Aramis?”

Athos didn't know how to answer such a question because he wasn't entirely sure. He knew that they'd never be-able to talk Aramis into giving evidence against Marsac in court because Aramis loved Marsac too much, so he wouldn't qualify for witness protection. Athos had obviously taken too long to answer because it was Porthos who spoke again.

“He's such a sweet guy, Athos. So innocent in some ways. I don't think I can do this. I don't think we should use him for information. What if Marsac finds out?”

“He won't,” Athos assured him.

“He might. Aramis doesn't really know what he's doing. What if he takes a risk too far to try and get information for us? If Marsac finds out we'll find Aramis dead down some alleyway. I couldn't cope with that. Not with him.”

Athos sighed and pulled over in the car. He turned off the engine and looked at Porthos, his beloved Porthos, always far too nice for his own good, always the one who cared far too much. Athos wasn't an idiot, he knew that Porthos had grown very fond of Aramis but, truth be told, Athos had a little as well. Athos was just better at hiding it.

“Porthos, his life now...is that better for him?” Athos asked, deciding to be as open and honest to his lover about his thoughts on the matter as possible. “I can't stand thinking about the fact he has all those men fucking him on a daily basis. I can't stand thinking about the fact he thinks that he isn't worth more than that. I hate the way Marsac uses him and has control over him. Are we putting him at risk? Yes. Can I back down now and just let him continue living his life like that knowing that we could possibly help him? No.”

“But are we helping him or are we just putting him in danger?” Porthos asked, lowering his head and looking down at his lap.

“Both,” Athos admitted. “But, if we don't use him as our informant, we would probably have to arrest him instead. And I don't want to see him in jail either. He wouldn't do well in jail, Porthos.”

Porthos was obviously listening and agreeing to what Athos was trying to say because he nodded his head slowly. Athos, taking that as the end of the conversation, turned the engine back on and drove them both to the office.

Once at his desk he used a ruler to mark out the points on the paper where he needed to use the hole-punch to make sure it was perfectly accurate. Constance came over and watched him, waiting for him to finish before interrupting.

“Here's a list of all of the coastal drug-seizures over the past two months.”

Athos looked up and thanked her gratefully but she didn't leave, she grabbed a chair from a nearby desk and pulled it over to sit down opposite Athos. He began to wonder what on earth she wanted because she seemed to hesitate before she finally spoke.

“Are you and Porthos having some...issues?” she asked, obviously trying to appear casual but Athos could tell from the concerned look on her face that she was worried about something.

“No,” Athos promised her, wondering why she might be thinking such a thing. “Why?”

“Well I don't know, you just seem to be visiting the bathroom a lot over these past couple of weeks and Porthos hasn't been his usual cheerful self.”

Athos sat back in his chair and briefly looked around to make sure that no-one else was close enough to be listening in on their conversation. Porthos had gone off to make coffee and everyone else appeared to be busy.

“No it's not...” Athos paused, wondering if he should divulged the facts of his personal life to someone but it was Constance and, if he was going to tell anyone, it would always be her. “Having Anne around threw me a bit,” he admitted. “And Porthos is finding this case difficult. He has grown quite attached to Aramis.”

“Ah,” Constance said and clearly it all seemed to make sense because her shoulders sunk and she visibly relaxed. “I assume you've had the 'don't get too involved' talk with him?” she inquired. Constance had actually known Porthos longer than Athos had and knew him quite well.

“Every five minutes,” Athos admitted before diverting his attention from Constance to the piece of paper that she had given him. There had only been a small number of boats stopped with drugs over the past two months. He hoped that one of them had been Marsac's supply.

“Would you like me to talk to him?” Constance was asking but Athos was barely listening, now concentrating on what he was reading. So he just shrugged and Constance obviously realised that Athos' attention had gone because, when he looked up to see why she had gone so quiet, he discovered that she wasn't even there anymore.

That night Porthos fucked Athos hard. Athos didn't mind, he liked it that way, but he could tell that Porthos was distracted. When Porthos pulled out he fell down onto his back on the bed, sweating and panting as he stared up at the ceiling. Athos was still on his hands and knees as he tried to get his own breath back. His arse was sore but not in an unpleasant way. Nothing he did with Porthos was ever unpleasant. In fact Porthos was the most wonderful and selfless lover he'd ever been with. Porthos eventually turned his head to look up at Athos, reaching out he stroked Athos' naked arm with his fingers.

“Sorry if that was a little...preoccupied,” he whispered quietly.

“There's no need to apologise,” Athos reassured him, his arms were starting to shake but he knew that he couldn't settle on the bed whilst the sheets were dirty. Porthos obviously knew that as well because he let himself groan a little before he began to move off the bed, standing up naked and still covered in sweat he walked over to the cupboard where they kept all of the clean bed-sheets. When he came back to the bed he knelt on the mattress and kissed Athos' shoulder.

“Let me do it this time,” he requested, perhaps trying to make up for the desperateness of their love making. Athos was too achy to complain. His muscles hurt from having to tense so much in order to hold himself up as Porthos had pounded into him. Athos wobbled but managed to stand on his feet and he watched as Porthos removed the dirty sheet. Porthos then carefully placed the new, crisp, clean bed-sheet onto the bed but, instead of crawling back into bed like most couples would have, Porthos knew that it wasn't over yet.

“Let me wash you,” he asked and Athos accepted the offer. Once the water was warm they both got into the shower and Porthos washed soap into Athos' skin with a tenderness which he hadn't displayed during their love making session.

“I love you,” Porthos said as he rubbed soap over Athos' stomach.

“I know,” Athos said back, because he did. The comment seemed to make Porthos smile.

“Athos, you can say 'I love you' back sometimes. That's only one letter more than 'I know'.”

Athos swallowed and nodded, silently cursing himself for being so useless at speaking the right words, the words Porthos needed to hear. But Porthos just continued to look at him lovingly and cleaned him up gently.

“I mean,” Porthos continued. “You don't have to say it. I'm just trying to help.”

“No you're...you're right,” Athos stumbled, embarrassed at how ridiculously bad he was at being a decent boyfriend. “And I do love you.” He promised.

“I know,” Porthos reassured him and then, realising that he had just said, he began to laugh. Watching Porthos laugh again made Athos smile and soon they were kissing passionately underneath the spraying water.

“Darling, stop thinking too loud I'm trying to sleep,” Porthos mumbled into Athos' ear half an hour later once they were both dry and settled in the clean bed. But Athos couldn't help it; the only way they were going to be-able to help Aramis really was to arrest Marsac sooner rather than later but all they had at the moment were pieces of information here and there. Nothing concrete and nothing which would lock Marsac away for any length of time. It was frustrating to Athos because everyone knew that Marsac ran the brothels and was heavily involved in drug-dealing but they could do nothing to legally prove it.

“I need to go into work early,” he informed his dozy boyfriend. “I want to read up on all of the boat seizures. If we can link one to Vadim, maybe we can link it to Marsac. And we need find out who this Gilles is.”

“Athos, please turn your brain off until the morning,” Porthos encouraged and Athos tried to do so but with little success because he just couldn't stop thinking about Aramis. Porthos was snoring long before Athos managed to drop off.

 


	5. The Brothel Visit

Athos did leave Porthos in bed to get into work before everyone else where he read the papers on his desk until the others began to appear bleary eyed and not acknowledging Athos until they'd had some coffee. It was exactly 9'o'clock when the phone on Athos' desk rang and, without thinking, he reached to pick it up.

“Detective Sergeant de le Fare.”

“For fucks sake, why are you ignoring me?” came the familiar female voice on the other end of the phone which immediately made the hairs on the back of Athos' neck stand on end. He had forgotten about Anne for a few blissful hours.

“I have no-idea what you're talking about,” he muttered. If he was going to be forced to talk to her, the least he could do was wind her up. He actually heard her huff before she spoke again.

“We're meant to be working together, Athos, that means keeping me informed of what's going on.”

“I sent you an email yesterday,” Athos protested, because he had. It had been brief and formal but it was an email.

“Yes, you did,” she acknowledgment. “And that's why I'm ringing you. Gilles Charlet is Marsac's accountant.”

Accountant...Athos hadn't been expecting that. He leaned back in his chair a little.

“Accountant?” he repeated. “That's odd.”

“Why is it odd?” she asked. “Why did you need to know?”

“I'm not sure yet,” he admitted and suddenly leaned forward in his chair. “Thank you, Anne,” he added then heard her shout his name down the phone just seconds before he put it down.

It rang again as he got up from his desk to walk over to the board so he ignored it. Instead he picked up a blue card and wrote the name 'Gilles Charlet - Accountant' onto it before pinning it close to Marsac's picture. Why would Marsac's supplier need to get the drugs to his accountant? That didn't make sense. Perhaps Aramis had heard it wrong? Athos stepped back to examine the board and was soon joined by their new enthusiastic recruit.

“Anything I can help with?” d'Artagnan asked with a cup of black coffee in his hand which Athos always thought was a bad idea considering how hyperactive their young detective was anyway.

“Are you free today?” he asked d'Artagnan. D'Artagnan took a sip of his coffee and 'mmmed' his response. After he had swallowed he was finally able to speak. “Treville said Constance and I could help you today if you need us.”

“Good,” Athos turned to him. “Because I do need you. I need you both to find a man named Gilles Charlet and follow him. He's Marsac's accountant and there's a chance he might be receiving a supply of drugs over the next few days.”

D'Artagnan grinned at his new assignment. “I'll get right on it and we'll leave the second Constance is here.”

Athos nodded his thanks and watched as d'Artagnan raced off towards his desk. Athos still liked him. Usually detective's would grumble about boring surveillance assignments but d'Artagnan's keenness to constantly please was endearing. Athos rather hoped that the young man would never grow out of it.

Constance and Porthos seemed to appear together half an hour later which had Athos worrying, especially when they both stared at him as they came into the office. Athos wondered if he had done something wrong but he was left clueless as they both moved to their desks and Constance was immediately ambushed by d'Artagnan.

Athos turned his attention back to his computer and typed in the names of the drugs which were in Aramis' bathroom cabinet to discover that they were all had various uses but they were all commonly taken by people with epilepsy. So Aramis was epileptic; that did explain the fits and perhaps the cut on his head. He could have 'fallen down' during a seizure, it might not have been Marsac after all. Athos looked over at Porthos and wondered if he should tell him, but then decided that it would only make Porthos worry about Aramis even more. Porthos already had his doubts about using Aramis was it was, Athos didn't want to make that worse.

Nothing much happened for a couple of days, they didn't hear from Aramis and they didn't manage to get any new leads. None of the boat seizures had been linked to Vadim, in fact they hadn't been linked to anyone as the crew caught with the drugs had remained very tight-lipped about the destination of the drugs on-board. Athos felt like they were at a bit of dead-end until Constance and d'Artagnan came in late one afternoon looking tired but buzzed up like they had discovered something important. Athos guided them both into a meeting room with Porthos and waited for their report.

“Well,” Constance began. “...we found Gilles easily enough once we discovered his home address. He mostly seems to go from one meeting to another in hotel lobbies and restaurants. He doesn't seem to do a lot of accounting to be honest, but he is always carrying a brief case and also speaks on his phone a lot. He has a driver who takes him around. There has been no sign of Marsac at any of the meetings but something odd happened last night.” Constance seemed to pause, Athos suspected it was for dramatic effect but it only annoyed him.

“What?” he asked but Constance seemed hesitant to continue. In fact she turned to d'Artagnan who took over.

“He visited a brothel and was in there for well over an hour. It was the one where Aramis works.”

Athos paused to process the information for a moment. That wasn't...unusual, surely? If Gilles worked for Marsac then Gilles was probably allowed to sample some of the business once in a while but there was something about the way d'Artagnan and Constance were standing there awkwardly which made Athos suspect that there was more to the story.

“Keep going,” he firmly suggested to them both.

“Athos...did Aramis not say that he knew Gilles?” Constance queried. Athos and Porthos obviously both thought about it, trying to remember exactly what Aramis had said about Gilles.

“He didn't really say,” Porthos was the first to admit. “He just told us that Marsac was getting angry and saying if the supply wasn't with Gilles by the end of the weekend then he'd go mad.”

“I think Aramis knows Gilles,” d'Artagnan blurted out.

Athos frowned at the young man confused. “Why do you say that? You've been to the brothel, a few people work there, not just Aramis.”

“He was definitely seeing Aramis,” Constance pointed out but still seemed reluctant to tell them anything more which made Athos briefly wonder what exactly she and Porthos had been talking about but d'Artagnan intervened to assist again.

“We were in the car on the other side of the street when we saw the curtains open on the top floor and a very naked Gilles opened the window to blow the smoke from his cigarette outside. A couple of minutes later an equally naked Aramis appeared before the curtains closed again.”

“Dammit,” Athos suddenly blurted out. It hadn't even occurred to him to ask Aramis who Gilles was. And why did the thought of Aramis being naked with someone make him feel so sick? He knew full well what Aramis did for a living. Athos got up out of his seat, his skin was itching like crazy. He left the room and could hear Porthos talking to the others before Porthos followed him. Athos went straight into he bathroom to wash his hands.

“Don't be mad at yourself,” Porthos told him but then said nothing more as another detective from a different unit finished at the urinal and washed his hands before leaving them in peace.

“I'm not mad at myself,” Athos insisted, lying. “It just didn't occur to me before that Aramis would know who Gilles was. We need to talk to him.”

“Gilles?” Porthos asked as he stood close to the sinks watching.

“Aramis,” Athos explained and, once he had washed his hands five times, he waited for his anxiety to calm, before heading out of the bathroom and tugging his phone out of his pocket. He immediately dialed the mobile number Aramis had called him on before.

“Athos?” Aramis asked which shocked Athos a little bit, he didn't recall telling Aramis his first name but then realised that Porthos had probably let it slip during the 'dog rescue'.

“Where are you?” Athos enquired quickly and noticed that Porthos was standing there frowning like he didn't think it was a good idea.

“Umm just got to work,” Aramis told him, sounding confused.

“Stay there, I need to see you,” Athos said and hung up.

“You fucking kidding me?” Porthos asked, not looking pleased. “You're the one always worrying about getting him into trouble, about him being seen by us...now you're gonna just turn up at the brothel?”

Athos didn't have the time to explain, he was too angry with himself and angry at Aramis although he wasn't sure why. He just grabbed the jacket from the back of his chair and swung it on. Then he flicked the desk light on and off five times.

“I assume I can come?” Porthos asked, upon realising that stopping Athos wasn't gong to work which Athos appreciated.

“Of course,” Athos said. Porthos going with him was a given as far as he was concerned. They hardly did anything without each other. However, when they got to the brothel, Athos knew that they would have to temporarily separate.

“We can't go in together,” Athos pointed out as he sat in the car and looked at the building across the road.

“No?” Porthos asked and smirked. “Is that not how brothels work?”

Athos thought about it and discovered that he had no-idea how it worked but then he also began to realise that Porthos was just teasingly and logically thinking about the rules and regulations of a brothel was just wasting time. “I'll have to go in and pretend to be a paying customer. You stay here. I'll call you if I need you.”

Porthos actually chuckled at the last comment. Athos suddenly had an urge to reassure his boyfriend.

“I mean...I'm not actually going to...I'm just going to talk to him,” Athos explained which seemed to make Porthos laugh even louder and look at him fondly.

“I know, darling. You go and be a detective. I'll wait here and ponder why I always have to listen to you and you never have to listen to me.”

Athos silently took the comment on-board but didn't respond to it. It was something he'd save to reflect on at a later date. However, as he walked towards the brothel, a thought suddenly occurred to him...the Madam of the house might have seen him during the raid. Even though he had done nothing more than walk past her as Constance made the arrest, what if she remembered him? And the muscle man on the door, he would have seen Athos as well. Common-sense abruptly flooded his head and he twisted to walk back to the car when the front door of the house swung open and a familiar voice called to him.

“Where are you going?”

Athos turned to discover Aramis standing on the front-door step in his bare-feet. “Come on,” he prompted and then disappeared back into the house. Fuck, Athos thought in his head, he had to go in now. So he reluctantly walked back towards the front door and headed inside. The muscle man was no-where to be seen and the Madam just smiled at him. Athos glanced around frantically only to discover that he couldn't even see where Aramis had disappeared to. The Madam approached, she was a small Japanese lady in her fifties Athos assumed. She somehow managed to look both elegant and terrifying at the same time.

“Good evening,” she said, eyeing him up and down. “What can we interest you in tonight? We have five workers in residence this evening; different ages and genders. Would you like just one? Or perhaps you'd prefer two at a time? Double the price of course but also double the fun.”

Athos opened his mouth but wasn't exactly sure what he should say considering he was so shocked that she was offering up human-beings like a dinner menu so, when he heard Aramis shouting down the stairs, he was very grateful. “Nashiko, he's here for me!”

She raised an eyebrow. “Ah, you already have a favourite. Be my guest. I can collect payment on your way out.”

Athos suddenly panicked about the fact he wasn't sure if he brought any cash with him but forgot about that for the moment and went up the stairs to try and find Aramis who had disappeared somewhere once again. Eventually he found the man, right on the top floor and waiting in the hallway. Aramis smiled before going into the room where they had arrested Aramis before. Athos followed him in and immediately closed the door.

“I am so sorry,” he immediately said. “I didn't think this through.”

“It's okay,” Aramis responded with a smile. He was wearing ripped jeans and a white T-shirt. The room smelt of sweat and sex. “Don't be nervous.”

Athos wasn't aware that he looked nervous but he certainly felt nervous, even more so when Aramis came over and stood inches in front of him.

“Just relax,” Aramis whispered and Athos found himself trying to do so. Even when Aramis placed a hand on his hip. Then, Aramis closed his eyes and pressed his lips softly against Athos'. Athos was so startled by the kiss that he froze until the gentle lips moved away and Aramis smiled at him.

Before Athos really knew what was happened he suddenly leaned forward and pressed his lips against Aramis' harder. Aramis gasped but closed his eyes and moaned, opening his mouth he kissed Athos back passionately. Athos had no-idea what he was doing but the moans and the warm mouth, the way it was moving and devouring him, it made him forget himself. He stepped forward into Aramis wanting more, pressing his lips harder until he felt a wet tongue probing into his mouth and that made him groan. He sucked the tongue inside until, like a rock to the head, sense suddenly flooded back. He gasped and pushed at Aramis' chest to move away. He stumbled backwards against the door and panted.

“I...I...I didn't mean...” he felt flustered and confused. Why had he done that? Why was he kissing Aramis?! Aramis smiled as he stood before him and licked his bottom lip as if to savour the taste.

“Sorry I couldn't help myself,” Aramis suddenly admitted. “I don't usually kiss my clients but you're just...I don't know.”

Client...why had he called him... “Aramis, I'm not here for that,” Athos said, the realisation suddenly sinking in heavily. “I came to talk.”

“Of course,” Aramis said and nodded. He stepped backwards to move away from Athos and towards the bed. “And would you like to talk whilst I'm on my hands and knees, on my back or whilst I have your cock in my mouth? Tell me how you want it.”

“No!” Athos protested, feeling horrified that Aramis had somehow managed to get the wrong idea. “I mean I really just need to talk.”

Aramis paused and looked confused for a moment before he mouthed an 'oh'. Athos felt the urge to run away and attempt to rewind the last few minutes of his life but he knew that was impossible. It had been done now, he'd kissed Aramis without meaning to but that didn't mean the evening had to be a complete loss. Pulling himself back into work mode because that was the only way things made sense in his head, Athos moved away from the door.

“Do you know Gilles Carlet?” Athos asked to get the topic of conversation away from what had just happened.

“You don't want to fuck me?” Aramis replied, not answering the question at all and looking baffled. He tilted his head to the side and stared at Athos.

“No I don't want to fuck you,” Athos assured him, although he felt like he was lying when he said it. “I apologise if I gave you the wrong impression. It was never my intention to come here and do anything like that. I'm a detective and you're my informant.”

Aramis appeared to think about it and eventually shrugged. He seemed more relax as he went over and sat himself down on the bed. “Yes I know Gilles,” he said casually.

“Why didn't you tell me that?”

“You didn't ask,” Aramis pointed out with a frown which was when Athos realised that Aramis was right, he hadn't asked and none of it was Aramis' fault at all.

“Sorry I...no I didn't,” Athos admitted before walking closer to the window. He needed some air, suddenly the room felt very stuffy and the smell of sex even more overwhelming. “But you said that Marsac wanted the drugs to go to Gilles. But isn't Gilles his accountant?”

He opened up the window a little but looked at Aramis in time to catch a nod. “Accountant, personal assistant, you name it, Gilles seems to do it.”

“And he also seems to...do you?” Athos asked, the question perhaps coming out a little cruder than he had intended. He hoped that he hadn't insulted Aramis by his bluntness.

Aramis, however, didn't appear bothered at all. He just shrugged. “Yeah, sometimes.”

“Does Marsac know?” Athos queried. The question made Aramis laugh out loud.

“Do you really think Gilles would fuck me behind Marsac's back? Marsac would kill him. Of course Marsac knows. Marsac lets him.”

Athos flinched at the term 'lets him'. Like having a go with Aramis was like lending a friend a sports car. Athos didn't know what else to say, the kiss was still lingering in his mind and he couldn't shake the feeling of incredible guilt, like he had taken advantage of Aramis in some way, just like everyone else did.

“Athos, we shouldn't talk about this stuff here,” Aramis pointed out. “The walls aren't as thick as we'd like them to be.”

Athos nodded, it had been a stupid idea to have even come here in the first place. Then he watched as Aramis lay back on the mattress and his hand slipped up underneath the bottom of his T-shirt. He began rubbing his stomach slowly then the same fingers slipped underneath the top of his jeans.

“You sure you don't want to have some fun whilst you're here?” Aramis asked and the words made Athos realised that he had been staring.

“No,” Athos said, quite seriously. The kiss had been bad enough. “I'm in a relationship,” he told the man lying on the bed who was currently popping open the top button of his jeans.

The comment made Aramis chuckle. “So is everyone else who comes in here,” he pointed out which made Athos blush a little in embarrassment. Aramis' hands were soon back on his stomach and he was slowly pushing his white t-shirt up to expose his body slowly to the detective.

“I'll give you a discount.”

Athos shook his head firmly but he couldn't pull his eyes away from the skin which was peaking out from underneath Aramis' clothes. “Aramis, I should never have even kissed you. Please stop.”

Aramis didn't stop, he continued pulling his clothing up until his chest was exposed then he began groaning as he rubbed his finger over a nipple, opening his legs up seductively at the same time. “But I like you,” Aramis whispered. “I want you to fuck me.”

“I bet you say that to everyone,” Athos pointed out but those words, surprisingly, seemed to hurt Aramis. He covered himself back up again and sat up, looking away from the policeman. Athos hadn't meant to upset him, he just hadn't been thinking.

“Aramis...I'm sorry,” Athos said and, now that Aramis had stopped trying to seduce him, he moved closer. “I didn't mean to say that.”

“No, it's okay. I know why you would think that,” Aramis said and reached down to do the button of his jeans back up. “Go home if you want, Athos. Go back to your wife.”

The comment made Athos flinch. He had only had one wife and she was his wife no more. He was quite certain the he'd never have a wife ever again either.

“Actually I'm divorced,” Athos told Aramis honestly although he wasn't sure why. “I have a boyfriend now.”

Aramis looked rather thrown off guard by the comment and then somewhat pleased. “Wow. You're not in the closet? I don't get many like you in this room.” He began to smile and Athos decided that he liked it when Aramis smiled.

“How's Frodo?” Athos asked, determined to change the topic of conversation away from his private life.

Aramis' face suddenly really lit up. “Oh he's fine. He's back home now. Feeling a bit sorry for himself but he's eating again, eating a lot actually.”

Athos smiled a little too, pleased to hear the news. Then he tried to think of something else to say, small talk had never been a strength of his. “And your books?”

Aramis nodded over to a bag which was in the corner of the room and continued to smile for a moment before the smile slowly faded and he lowered his head. Athos wasn't sure what was wrong so he kept quiet until Aramis sighed and eventually got up to his feet.

“You'd better stay here for a while otherwise Nashiko will think I've done something wrong and I'll get into trouble,” Aramis said as he walked over to the window and opened it up even more to let some air into the room. “You can sit on the bed if you like,” Aramis told him. “I won't touch you again.”

Athos looked over at the bed and couldn't help but think of what happened on it and the fact it would probably be covered in goodness knows what. The thought made him shudder.

“I'm fine,” he told Aramis, hoping that the man wouldn't push it. Aramis just looked a little sad as he walked past Athos and sat himself back onto the bed anyway, getting the cushions pushed up against the headboard to make himself comfortable.

“Suit yourself,” he mumbled and seemed to not want to look at Athos anymore. Athos assumed that he had upset him and, despite not understanding how, he felt bad about it. He wanted to somehow make Aramis smile again but he was utterly useless at such things and, despite the fact he was trying to think of another topic which would make Aramis smile that didn't involve dogs or books, he came up a little bit blank. But he needn't have worried because it seemed that Aramis who obviously didn't like awkward silences.

“What does your boyfriend do?” he asked, looking over finally.

“He's umm...” Athos suddenly realised that Aramis finding out that he and Porthos were in a relationship was not a good idea so he felt forced to lie. “...he's an architect.”

“Oh!” Aramis appeared very interested. “That's cool. What does he design?”

“All sorts,” Athos had to continue the lie, even though he hated himself for doing so but it was best for everyone. “Mostly new office blocks at the moment.”

Aramis nodded. It was then that it began to occur to Athos that he had Aramis as a captive audience for a few minutes so, if he was going to attempt to probe Aramis for more information on Marsac, now would be the time. Only Aramis' comment about the thin walls made Athos cautious. So, despite every ounce of his OCD screaming at him not to, he went over to the edge of the bed and very carefully perched on as little of the mattress as he possibly could without falling off.

“How long have you known Marsac for?” he asked, curiously. He had heard Anne's version but he wanted to hear the story from Aramis himself.

“From when I was a street kid,” Aramis said, seemingly happy to talk about such things. “He was a bit older so he sort of took me under his wing. I must have been...I don't know...sixteen or seventeen.”

“That's very young,” Athos pointed out.

The comment made Aramis nod. “Yes, I guess. I ran away from home a couple of years before that.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Aramis said but didn't continue. He then appeared to be annoyed. He turned away from Athos and looked over at the window so Athos decided to drop the subject. He wasn't going to force Aramis to talk about things he didn't want to and, anyway, Athos had only asked to satisfy his own curiosity, it had nothing to do with the case.

“You once made a comment that Marsac used to be different. How was he different?”

The question got Aramis' attention again and he glanced back at the policeman. “You're not going to believe me but he used to be really nice. I mean yes, he was my pimp, but he was nice. Nicer than some of the other pimps around. He kept us safe for the most part. Made sure that we were eating decent food and sleeping in proper beds. If one of us was ill he took us to the doctors. He was really helpful with my...” Aramis suddenly paused but Athos could mentally fill in the blanks; epilepsy he assumed. But he didn't say anything and allowed Aramis to continue.

“...anyway he was alright really. Everyone wanted to be one of Marsac's because Marsac never hurt any of us and gave us a decent cut of the earnings. But then he changed. I think someone talked him into selling drugs and it all started to go downhill from there. Suddenly he became colder. He had less time for us and was always stressed and angry. He started paying some of the others with drugs instead of money so he could take all of their earnings for himself.” Aramis sighed and seemed to be very far away, so Athos finally had the chance to say something.

“But not you? I mean you said yourself, you've never done drugs.”

Aramis shook his head from side to side. “Marsac never let me near them. He'd be so mad if he ever found out I did drugs so I don't touch the stuff.”

Aramis' words about Marsac's temperament suddenly made Athos remember the bruise he'd seen on Aramis the day they had arrested him. “Does he hurt you?” Athos asked, hoping to slip the question in so tenderly that Aramis wouldn't think twice before answering. Aramis did appear to respond straight away.

“No, he doesn't hurt me. He loves me. He hurts other people though. He's very unkind these days and he has a bad temper. I've seen him hurt other people.”

Aramis lowered his head and scratched at his jeans for a moment. Athos wanted so badly to reach out and hold him. To tell him that he'd never let Marsac touch a hair on his head but it was a false promise and one that he couldn't even make. There was, however, one promise that he could make.

“I promise that I will do everything I can to stop Marsac from hurting people.”

“He does need to be stopped. He's losing control and something bad might happen to him,” Aramis whispered, as if he was scared that people would overhear all of a sudden.

“Something might,” Athos nodded. Although something bad happening to Marsac was the last thing Athos was worried about but the thought obliviously weighed heavily on Aramis' mind.

There was another silence which hung between the pair of them for a while before Aramis shifted on the bed.

“You should go soon. I need to make some money tonight and I can't do it with you in my room.”

Athos hesitated for a moment as he remembered the hospital where he had told Porthos off for giving Aramis money because now he was feeling a strong urge to do the same himself. So, sighing with annoyance at himself, he stood up to pull his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Athos, you don't have to...” Aramis began but was silenced by Athos placing a couple of notes down on the bed.

“Sorry, that's all I have,” Aramis said as he searched for more cash but came up empty. It wasn't much but it was something and, in all honestly, he had no-idea how much Aramis even got paid.

“Well I did say I'd give you a discount,” Aramis was grinning as he moved to get onto his knees and pick up the cash. “I'll come down with you to make sure Nashiko knows you paid me otherwise she'll kick your arse.”

“That would be appreciated.”

Athos found himself not wanting to go. He hated the room and he hated the building both because of what it represented and how dirty it made him feel, but he didn't want to leave Aramis there. The thought of leaving the sweet and caring man behind to be used for sex made him feel nauseous. But he knew that he had to and he knew that it had been a stupid impulsive idea to have even suddenly turned up in the first place. He was still worried that 'Nashiko' was going to recognise him but, when Aramis took him back down, she didn't really pay Athos much attention. Just had a go at Aramis for not charging a higher price but Aramis appeared to have a good relationship with her and, within seconds of turning on his charm, she was laughing with him and all was forgiven.

So Athos slipped out of the door and left, feeling like an utter idiot and wondering what on earth he had managed to achieve. The second he slid into the passenger side door of the car he decided to stop Porthos from saying anything by speaking first.

“Why didn't you stop me?”

Porthos immediately burst out laughing and, only once he had calmed himself down, did he speak. “You can be very stubborn when you want to be, love,” he informed Athos but Athos already knew. He could be stubborn; when he had decided that he wanted to do something he never listened to any advice. He sighed, momentarily embarrassed by his own behaviour, as he sunk down into the leather car-seat.

“How did it go?” Porthos asked.

“Well I went in there and suddenly panicked that the Madam or bouncers would recongise me,” Athos admitted.

“I'm not sure they're called bouncers,” Porthos interrupted but Athos ignored the comment and continued.

“Thankfully she didn't seem to. Then Aramis seemed to think that I had turned up because I wanted sex which was frightfully embarrassing but I did mange to chat to him. I think I have a better understanding of Marsac and his relationship with Marsac and it turns out this Gilles seems to do a lot of things for Marsac, he's not just his accountant.”

“Aramis thought you wanted sex?” Porthos asked in a way that made Athos turn his head to look at his boyfriend. Porthos had sounded...upset but when Athos looked at him he didn't look upset, mostly surprised. Athos offered a somewhat confused shrug and then thought about the kiss and wondered how honest he should be. He didn't want to start an argument...he really didn't want to start an argument.

“There's something you're not telling me,” Porthos said which made Athos sit up in a panic which he suspected only made him look nervous but he couldn't help himself.

“What?” he asked quickly which probably only made him look even more guilty and, having a feeling that Porthos was going to sulk for the rest of the day if Athos wasn't honest with him, he decided that he didn't have much of a choice. “We kissed. When I realised what was happening I stopped it.”

“Oh,” Porthos said and he didn't seem to mind. He mostly looked thoughtful as he turned to the windscreen. “Did he kiss you or...”

The question seemed to fizzle out before Porthos had finished but Athos knew that he was trying to say.

“I can't really remember,” Athos admitted because he actually couldn't. He just remembered the kiss, not so much how it started. “I told him I had a boyfriend and I wasn't there for sex.” He remembered that part at least.

“Oh...” Porthos repeated. “Was it...nice?” Then he turned back and Athos discovered that a smile was forming on the man's face. Athos gasped, shocked and somewhat horrified that's what Porthos would ask him.

“Was it nice? I just told you that I kissed a prostitute, our informant no less, and you're asking me if it was nice? If you'd done that I'd be reading you the riot act.”

“Why? Because it's breaking the police rules or because you'd be jealous?”

“I don't know!” Athos snapped although he wasn't sure why he was angry. Why was he angry about the fact Porthos didn't seem to mind? Surely Porthos finding it amusing was a good thing? But Athos felt like he was getting off lightly, he deserved to be punished for his behaviour, not to have his boyfriend finding it funny.

There was obviously something about the way Athos was looking which seemed to amuse Porthos even more because he was laughing again before reaching over and wrapping his fingers around the back of Athos' neck.

“Let's get you back before you burst a blood-vessel thinking too hard,” Porthos suggested and pulled Athos forward so he could kiss him on the forehead. There was something magical about the kiss which did calm Athos down. His folded arms seem to loosen against his chest. Athos hadn't been aware of when he had folded them. “And no doubt you want to wash.” Porthos knew him well.

In fact they didn't go back to the office, Porthos took Athos home as it was getting late and Athos had been tugging on his hair the entire car journey because it felt filthy and it irritated him to no end. It was obviously irritating Porthos as well, because, they second they were back at their apartment, he took Athos into the bathroom and turned the shower on. Back when they had decided to buy a home together, the one and only thing Porthos insisted on was having a shower which was big enough for two people. Athos had since discovered the joy of his request especially when he spent so much time washing. At least with a large cubicle Porthos could join him.

They both undressed themselves and Athos couldn't help but notice that Porthos was half-hard by the time they stepped underneath the water and he didn't mind. He was always quite amazed that he could turn anyone on, let alone the handsome wonder that was Porthos du Vallon.

It wasn't long until Porthos had him pushed up against the cold tiles of the shower cubicle and was kissing the life out of him. Athos groaned into the kiss and, at first, attempted to push back with his tongue and lips but then he succumbed. Porthos was in dominant mode and Athos secretly liked it. So Athos allowed himself to be pinned against the wall and have the tongue forced into his mouth which he sucked on happily. But then Porthos' warm lips disappeared and, with the water spraying on his back, he bent down to nibble on Athos' collarbone just the way Athos liked it. Athos found himself sighing with delight, watching the water pelting down in front of him for a moment before he closed his eyes as Porthos went lower. Soon he felt a warm tongue licking at one of his nipples which made Athos whimper and he reached up to run his fingers through Porthos' curly hair.

“Don't stop,” Athos begged in a whisper. He heard Porthos chuckling from below and mumbling something along the lines of 'I wasn't intending to'. Then Porthos' fingers were scratching down his sides as the large man dropped to his knees and Athos knew where this was going and Athos wanted it more than anything. He hated being needy but he found himself whimpering as he looked down to see Porthos on his knees, fingers stroking the underside of Athos' growing erection.

“Yes,” Athos begged. “Oh god please.” He saw a glimpse of a smile from his lover before Porthos opened his mouth and took the head between his lips, sucking it hard before replacing his lips with his tongue and exploring Athos' sensitive cock tenderly. The action made Athos groan and leak. His head rolled back to push against the tiles as he tensed with the anticipation. He was groaning Porthos' name as the warm tongue continued to lick around every inch of skin before it traveled along Athos' over-sensitive slit which made Athos cry out and try to pull away. But Porthos' warm hand stroked his hip and soothed him so Athos soon settled again. Before he had time to allow his brain to catch up with his body, a hot mouth was engulfing him. Athos cried out and his fingers gripped into Porthos' hair as the man took him in his mouth.

“Porthos!” he cried as Porthos sunk his mouth down as far as he could, taking in as much of Athos as he could manage. It was more than enough and it made Athos' legs shiver with delight. Athos could let go with Porthos. He could let go and enjoy himself because Porthos loved him and understood him. So Athos did. Athos bit onto his bottom lip but allowed himself to moan as Porthos' lips began sucking up and down. He repeatedly whimpered Porthos' name which seemed to encourage his boyfriend to just go faster. His fingers tightened in Porthos' wet hair which just made Porthos hollow his cheeks and suck harder. Soon Athos' hips were pumping in the same rhythm as Porthos was bobbing his head and Athos could hear the frantic slapping of Porthos stroking himself from down below.

Then Athos thought about Aramis. He thought about the kiss and Aramis' soft lips desperately devouring him. He thought about Aramis' stomach and how much he wanted to touch it, stroke it and he thought about what might be underneath Aramis' jeans. He imagined Porthos and Aramis together, lying in bed, kissing each other, touching each other...enjoying each other. Then Athos' balls began to feel tight and, before he could stop himself, his body tensed and he suddenly exploded into Porthos' mouth with a gasp.

He sighed when it was over and relaxed back against the shower cubicle but his mind was whirling a hundred times a minute, he felt guilty for the fantasy so he tried to distract himself.

“We'll have to keep the surveillance on Gilles. We can do shifts. I'll phone up Constance in a minute. Perhaps Treville can arrange for us to borrow two more detectives so we can have three lots of rotating shifts going on if you include the two of us. Marsac wanted the drugs with him by the end of the weekend, well it's Friday evening already.”

When Porthos stood up he was rolling his eyes although Athos didn't understand why.

“It's a good thing I love you,” Porthos muttered before turning around and finding the soap. Athos opened his mouth to ask for the meaning behind the comment but then he promptly thought of something else.

“If we can get Gilles with the drugs then we just need to follow the trail. I assume Gilles is the one who gets the drugs to the dealers on the streets. If we get enough evidence with that, then all we then need to do is connect the operation to Marsac.”

“Yes, love,” Porthos said and soaped up his hands before proceeding to wash Athos' chest.

“Do you think just two people watching Gilles is enough? Perhaps we need two cars. We don't want to lose him.”

“I think...” Porthos said, massaging the soap into Athos' skin. “That I'm at home and I don't want to talk about all of this.”

“Porthos,” Athos said with a frown. “This is what we do.”

“I'm not being paid to do it right now,” Porthos noted and kissed Athos on the nose before pulling him forward to place him underneath the running water to wash him off. Athos was starting to get wet but he wasn't very happy with Porthos' attitude.

“We may not get this chance again. We have to make sure we don't miss it.”

“Athos,” Porthos sighed and placed his finger over Athos' lips in an attempt to stop him from talking. “I'm being your boyfriend right now, not your work colleague. Just let me be your boyfriend for a few minutes.”

“But I thought you cared about Aramis?” Athos asked, confused as to why suddenly helping Aramis wasn't at the forefront of Porthos' mind. Porthos seemed to flinch and then wouldn't look at him, just continued washing him which Athos appreciated but it left him confused. One minute Porthos desperately wanted to help Aramis and now Athos was trying to think about ways to help Aramis, Porthos didn't seem interested. Athos wondered if admitting to the kiss had changed things. Perhaps Porthos was hurt by it after all.

“Are you upset with me?” Athos asked, deciding to check. Porthos then slowly looked up again and smiled a little sadly at his boyfriend.

“Oh, Athos, you really do struggle with the relationship thing, don't you?” Athos was suddenly engulfed in a pair of strong arms and held tightly. He allowed himself to be because he felt bad, Porthos was right, Athos had never been in a healthy, normal relationship before and he wasn't entirely sure what he was meant to say and how he was supposed to behave. He also wasn't entirely sure that his relationship with Porthos was normal and healthy but it certainly felt that way compared to his marriage which had started off with subtle emotional manipulation and ended in constant rows and arguing.

“I'm sorry,” Athos said, his face being pressed against Porthos' shoulder as he was squeezed.

Porthos' response was one of reassurance. “Shh don't be.”

But Athos felt bad. Athos felt bad that he couldn't be the boyfriend that Porthos deserved to have. He pushed at Porthos' chest and moved back from the hug a little. “Teach me how to do things better,” he insisted and the words seem to make Porthos smile warmly.

“Alright, lesson one, within seconds of your boyfriend giving you a blow-job don't start talking about work like that's what you've been thinking about the entire time.”

“I wasn't thinking about it the entire time,” Athos insisted but was paused by Porthos' fingers coming to touch his lips once again.

“I'm teaching you now, you must remain silent.”

Athos nodded under his instruction. He might be Porthos' boss at work but, at home, he certainly wasn't. He knew that he had to remember that. Porthos looked at Athos affectionately and then appeared to be lost in thought for a moment.

“Maybe we should make a new rule; no work talk in bed or for thirty minutes after sex when we're not in bed.”

Porthos had paused and was obviously waiting for a reaction. Athos didn't think that the new rule would be a huge hardship so he nodded in agreement. “I agree,” he said and added a bit of a shrug as if to indicate that it wouldn't be a problem. The reaction made Porthos smile, which Athos was very pleased about and the next thing he knew he being reward by getting his hair washed.


	6. The Arrest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I'm currently traveling although I'm hoping that, during my travels, I'll manage to find the time to get most of this story done. That may be hopeful though...

Considering the case was turning into quite a large operation, Athos managed to sweet-talk Treville into allowing them to all take over-time whenever they needed to and getting another couple of detectives from narcotics to help them out. Treville did grumble about budgets and figures for a while but Athos insisted that it would actually save time and money in the long-run if they managed to arrest Marsac soon. Athos suspect Treville mostly just agreed because he knew that Athos was very stubborn.

Once he was out of the Captain's office, one of the many rooms he desperately wanted to organise and clean, Athos promptly created a shift rota using a very helpful spreadsheet clearly labeled and coloured. This allowed Athos to make sure that Gilles was being followed constantly. 

During his first shift, Athos discovered that Gilles was a busy man. He rose early in the morning, had meetings all day and then enjoyed his evenings in strip-clubs and brothels. He had a baby-face and wore thick black glasses which made him look like he had just graduated university but Athos suspected that he was probably in his mids 30s. 

When Porthos and Athos were on Gilles watching shift for the second time, they watched the man disappear into a restaurant and briefly contemplated going in to find out who he was meeting but then decided against it; they needed to be ready in the car for when Gilles re-appeared. They couldn't lose him, not for the whole weekend. 

“You know there's a chance that the supplier will fuck up and not get the drugs to Gilles on time?” Porthos pointed out before shoving more of the particularly greasy smelling burger into his mouth. Athos eyed him up for a moment. Athos couldn't for the likes of him understand how Porthos could even contemplate eating something he had brought from a street-seller. 

“I know,” Athos noted, very unimpressed by the burger-eating. “But this is still the best lead we've had. You will brush your teeth before you kiss me again, won't you?”

Porthos just chuckled and ate more burger. Athos didn't mind, not really. He wanted Porthos to do whatever he liked and not let Athos' OCD stop him and, anyway, they had strong air-freshener in the glove compartment for the moment Porthos finished.

It was another forty minutes until Gilles left the restaurant in what seemed like a hurry. He was talking on his phone and, within seconds, the car which seemed to take him around appeared out of no-where and picked him up from the pavement. Porthos started their own car and they followed and, as they tailed Gilles, Athos began to get suspicious because it was strange that Gilles had left so abruptly.

“Where is he going?” he asked although wasn't really expecting an answer. 

They began to head towards the dock-yards and, the closer they got to the river, the more the butterflies in Athos' stomach multiplied. This was different. So far Gilles hadn't strayed outside a few mile radius within the city. This was very different. Then, as they headed into the dock-yard, Athos began to get very interested.

“This could be it,” he said to Porthos who was busy concentrating on trying to hold back enough that they wouldn't be spotted but not lose sight of the car they were following. 

“What's the plan?” Porthos asked.

“We follow the drugs. If Gilles and the drugs don't seem to be going in the same direction, we have to follow the drugs. We must link it to Marsac.”

Porthos nodded and, when the car in front seemed to disappear into a car-park, Porthos slowly pulled up just outside the metal fencing still in view of what was going on. There was a large, dirty, white lorry in the car-park and a black car waiting beside it. Gilles' car stopped close to them both. Athos immediately lifted up the camera, wound down his window and began to take photographs the second Gilles got out the car. Three tall men soon appeared from the second car and they all met at the back of the lorry. 

“Fuck!” Porthos suddenly gasped. “That's Vadim! He's actually meeting Vadim!”

Athos tried to calm his shaking hands to take more pictures as Vadim and Gilles spoke. Then one of the other men opened the back of the lorry and Gilles clambered inside with Vadim.

“This is it,” Athos whispered loudly. “The drugs must be in the back of that lorry. Get on the radio. We need to follow the lorry, we can't lose it. We need more people on this.”

Porthos did as he was asked as Athos took more photographs as Vadim and Gilles re-emerged, jumping off the back of the lorry together. Gilles shook Vadim's hand and headed back towards his own car. Athos noted that he wasn't carrying anything which meant that whatever they had been talking about was still inside the lorry.

“Treville's gonna send those two narc detective's back out to help,” Porthos explained once he was done.

“Get d'Artagnan and Constance as well,” Athos insisted. “I've changed my mind, we need to follow the lorry and Gilles. What if Gilles goes off to see Marsac?” 

“Love, you might not need sleep but those two do. They must have only gone to bed three hours ago.”

“Get them!” Athos yelled and he heard Porthos sigh but he got back on the radio anyway. He could tell that Porthos was in a grumpy mood with him by the way Porthos then remained silent as they waited for Gilles to leave but Athos would apologise later; he was too busy watching Vadim talk to the driver of the lorry then get back into the black car. 

Soon everyone was pulling off and driving away. Athos suddenly wished that he had an army of detectives but he decided to stick to his original plan; follow the lorry. Tracking the destination of the drugs was the most important part. So Porthos obediently did and, half an hour later, the lorry pulled up outside a furniture shop and warehouse. From their position across the road Athos took more photographs as a bunch of burly men came out from the shop to unload the lorry. The lorry did indeed contain furniture, mostly various types of armchairs. Athos assumed that the drugs were hidden inside the chairs somewhere because it didn't seem likely that Gilles and Marsac were going into the furniture business.

“We gonna raid it?” Porthos asked as they watched the men carrying the chairs into the warehouse beside the shop, his sulk finished. Athos thought about it for a moment. He wanted to do a raid, arrest Vadim and Gilles but there was one thing which concerning him...

“I don't think we've got enough to link all of this to Marsac yet. I want to see what happens to the drugs, who turns up to take it or where it gets taken to.”

Porthos nodded in agreement and they waited. Not much happened for a while. The men seemed to stay in the shop and there wasn't a lot of movement. As time ticked by slowly, Athos felt his anxiety levels begin to rise. Then, just was it was beginning to get dark, Athos had a phone call from Constance who admitted that they were struggling to track down Gilles.

“Well...it's almost time for his evening entertainment,” Athos pointed out. “Why don't you wait outside the strip-club he often goes to?”

“He might visit the brothel,” Constance pointed out. 

“Leave that to me,” Athos said and hung-up on her. Then, passing Porthos the camera, he dialed another number and waited until Aramis answered.

“Aramis, I need you to do me a favour,” he said, not giving Aramis the chance to say anything himself.

“Yes?” Aramis responded.

“If Gilles comes to you tonight, can you let me know?”

“Why?” asked the voice down the other end of the line and Athos wondered if he could be honest with Aramis. He decided that, on this instance, perhaps it was best that he was and anyway he couldn't come up with another logical answer which Aramis would believe. 

“Because we're following him but we lost him,” Athos admitted. He wanted Aramis to know that they were working on the case and taking everything he told them seriously after all.

“Yeah, alright,” Aramis said. “How are you?”

Athos was a little taken back by the question so he briefly said 'fine ' then 'thanks' and 'goodbye' in that order before hanging up. He could tell by the way Porthos was frowning at him that he hadn't done the right thing but he could work on his people skills when he wasn't busy catching drug-dealers.

It was another hour before something happened which really sealed the deal. A young man turned up with his hands shoved into the pockets of his baggy jeans and a hood covering his head. But, just before he disappeared down the side of the shop, he lowered his hood and looked around before heading down the alleyway. Phillipe Roche had turned up at the furniture shop and gone inside. Athos recongised him from the mug-shot Treville had shown them back when they were given the case.

“This is it!” Porthos said, sounding exciting, obviously realising who the lad was as well. “I mean come on, we can link Marsac's accountant to the drugs and now we can link one of his runners to the drugs. Surely this is enough? Marsac doesn't get his hands dirty, this is the best we're gonna get.”

Athos nodded, agreeing. “You're right, it is. We need someone to follow Phillipe to see where he goes and then we need to raid the warehouse.”

Athos was soon on the phone to Treville and Treville agreed to gather together a team of uniformed officers to raid the warehouse. Treville offered to take the lead on the raid so Athos and Porthos could follow Phillip. When Phillip re-appeared just a short-time later he was carrying a large black hold-all. As he was walking on foot, Athos and Porthos abandoned the car to follow him. The young man walked quite a way and even got on the metro at one point. Athos and Porthos managed to follow right up until the moment Phillipe disappeared into a run-down townhouse.

“What we gonna do?” Porthos asked as he went to join Athos standing in the shadows outside the house. “We can't borrow anyone else, Treville's using them all on the raid and d'Artagnan and Constance are still trying to track down Gilles.”

“What about those two narc detectives, where are they? We'll be fine with four of us.” 

Porthos got on the radio trying to find out. The longer the detectives took to appear the more uneasy Athos became, worried that Phillipe would leave before they got there. He rubbed at his hands desperately wanting to clean them; he needed a ritual, he needed to calm himself down. Porthos noticed and gave Athos' shoulder a reassuring squeeze but then a car pulled up and the two detectives got out.

Athos ordered them both to go in through the front-door whilst he and Porthos took the back. Then, with guns out, they made their way around the back of the terrace townhouses and found the garden gate which belonged to the right house. Porthos was busying attempting to break the arched gate when Athos' phone began buzzing in his jacket pocket. He pulled it out with his hand which wasn't attached to the gun and saw the number, it was Aramis. He was going to ignore it but briefly thought better of it and lifted the phone to his ear.

“Yes?” he whispered as quietly as he could.

“He's here,” Aramis said.

“Gilles?” Athos asked, just to clarify.

“Yes,” Aramis was whispering as well. “He's in my room. I'm calling you from the bathroom. Is this what you wanted me to do?”

“Yes, Aramis, thank you,” Athos said and hung up on him again before the guy had the chance to ask any further questions. Athos lowered his gun for a brief moment to send a text to Constance telling her to arrest Gilles at the brothel just seconds before he heard the detectives yelling 'police' at the front-door. Athos wasn't ready for it but thankfully Porthos was and he kicked the garden gate in. They both raced across the small patch of grass and, as soon as someone tried to dash out of the back of the house in a mad panic, Porthos just shoved them in the chest which sent them flying back into the kitchen and land in a heap on the lino floor.

Inside the house there were three men and one woman, all were placed under-arrest. On the kitchen counter was at least two kilograms of cocaine which they had been busy sorting into smaller packets when the house had been raided. Athos felt good. It had been a very successful operation because they had four mildly pissed off drug-dealers to take to the station and, with any luck, one of them might give them information on Marsac in exchange for a lighter sentence.

Once the chaos inside the house had died down Athos left the others to get the accused into the cars whilst he walked a few metres down the street to call Constance.

“Yes we've got him. He came quietly. I think he found it amusing but, Athos, something kicked off at the brothel as we were leaving. One of the other workers was screaming that Aramis had called the police; that he'd heard him do it. Gilles wasn't paying it much attention but they were all shouting at each other in the brothel when we left. But with just d'Artagnan and myself on our own, all we could do was leave with Gilles.”

Athos sighed. “It's alright. I'll phone Aramis to check if he's okay,” Athos promised and decided not to tell Porthos because Porthos was in the middle of busy bagging up evidence and putting it into the trunk of their car. He knew that the news would just panic his partner.

In fact Athos turned his back to all that was going on at the house and was just about to call Aramis when a call from Treville interrupted his dialing. Treville explained that his team had found more drugs hidden in the back of two arm-chairs. They were still searching and gathering evidence so might be a while. He told Athos that he had done a good job which made Athos feel proud of himself for a moment. Once Treville had gone Athos began walking back to the cars when his phone rang again and he picked it up saying, “Athos.”

“Athos?” the voice on the other end asked and Athos, upon realising that he'd used his first name instead of his last, corrected himself.

“Sorry Detective Sergeant de le Fere. Who is this?”

“Thought so,” the voice at the other end said and then the line went dead. Athos, confused, stared down at his phone and checked the last dialed number and suddenly his heart stopped beating...it had been Aramis' number.

“Fuck,” he suddenly said. What had he just done? Porthos was soon by his side as if he could sense something was wrong.

“What?” he asked. “You look like you're gonna throw-up.”

“Shit!” Athos yelled and opened up the back-door of the car, grabbed Phillipe by his hoodie and dragged the handcuffed man out. “Get the other one out!” He ordered Porthos who did as he was told. Soon both of the drug-dealers were standing on the pavement looking very confused.

“Call in for a van,” Athos told one of the narc detectives as he ran around the other side of the car to dive into the drivers-seat.

“What?!” Porthos was asking frantically now as he got into the passenger side and slammed the door-shut. “What's going on, Athos?”

“We need to get to the brothel,” Aramis explained as soon as he started up the engine. “I think Aramis might be in trouble and it's my fault.”

Porthos didn't need telling twice, he put on his seat-belt and sat back as Athos sped off at a manic speed and darted in and out of traffic with the lights and siren of their undercover car blaring. It took them no time at all to reach the brothel, but, as they discovered, they were still too late.

“Where is he?!” Porthos yelled at Nashiko who appeared to be nonplussed about the whole thing.

“I don't know,” she said, barely even looking at them from her booth, writing down some figures in her books instead. Athos guessed that it wasn't for tax purposes. 

“He was here an hour ago,” Athos pointed out, stepping forward and slammed his fist down onto her book in an attempt at getting her full attention. “Where is he now?”

She gave them a little shrug but then someone came closer to them and it made Athos step back to look. It was a male prostitute with short, blond curls. He looked incredibly nervous, rubbing his fingers together in front of his stomach.

“M-Marsac turned up and took him,” the topless lad said anxiously. 

“No!” Nashiko yelled and the lad swallowed, clearly trying not to look at her. His eyes timidly darted between Athos and Porthos instead.

“The police showed up and arrested Aramis' john. One of the new guys here said that he heard Aramis on the phone in the bathroom telling someone that he was here. The john just laughed but, the second the police left, Nashiko called Marsac.”

“No!” Nashiko yelled again and stormed out of her booth to confront the prostitute. The lad backed off towards the wall, afraid of her but he was also clearly angry at her actions.

“No, Nashiko, you don't do that. You don't do that to Aramis. I thought you cared about us, I thought you cared about him!”

Athos moved to stand between the boy and Nashiko who looked about ready to smack him. He ignored Nashiko, hoping that Porthos would have his back on that one, and focused solely on the lad. 

“And Marsac took Aramis away?” Athos asked, trying to sound calm although, on the inside, he felt frantic. It was Marsac who had called him. He had answered the phone and had used his police title to Marsac.

The lad nodded and then bowed his head and looked away. Aramis was in serious danger and they needed to find him.

“You keep your mouth shut!” Out of the corner of his eye Athos could see Nashiko was wagging her finger at the blond lad furiously behind his back. 

It was Porthos who turned to face her angrily. “You could have just signed Aramis' death warrant!” He snapped. “You do know that, don't you?”

“He was helping you filthy scum,” she hissed, standing on her tip-toes to face up to Porthos.

“Nashiko,” the blond said, walking past Athos towards her. “This is Aramis. This is our Aramis. He thinks the world of you, you know? He does everything you tell him to do and more.”

There was silence for a moment and Nashiko's mood slowly began to change and she started to look a little somber and guilty perhaps. She lowered her head. 

“Where would he have taken Aramis?” Porthos asked her, hoping that she would co-operate but it was the blond who spoke first.

“He probably took him underneath a bridge somewhere and shot him in the back of the fucking head!” The blond cried, flinging his arms up in frustrated desperation.

“No,” Nashiko said, quietly correcting him. “He was angry but he said something about taking him home. I don't know if he meant Aramis' home or his home. You might want to try his first.”

Porthos nodded and staggered backwards. Athos reached up to place a hand onto his back in an attempt to steady him before he fell over. It was all getting too much for Porthos. With a hand still on Porthos' back, Athos stepped forward.

“Please don't tell Marsac we're looking for him. Unless you want us to arrest you both?”

Nashiko looked at her worker and the lad looked at Nashiko. They both shook their heads.

“Just find Aramis,” the blond requested.

They knew where Marsac lived, it had been in his file. So they drove over there and, on the way, Athos received an annoyed call from the Captain, requesting to know why four arrests had been made but the arresting detective's weren't at the station.

“I messed up,” Athos admitted weakly down the phone, so ashamed that he had let Treville down.

“What do you mean, you messed up?” Treville asked. Athos was in shock about the whole situation and he could barely explain. Porthos was fuming, driving with his hands gripping the steering-wheel far too tightly and trying not to panic. Athos just felt...defeated. He believed in his heart that Aramis was already dead and that they were just going off to search for his body.

“Athos?” the voice down the phone called and Athos realised that he hadn't responded. 

“Marsac found out that Aramis was helping us. It was my fault. We're trying to find them.”

This time it was Treville's turn to stay silent and Athos suddenly felt sick. The Captain was disappointed. Treville had believed in him and Athos had messed up.

“I'll send d'Artagnan and Constance to help,” Treville finally said. “Arrest Marsac if you find him. I reckon we've got enough to connect him to all of this now.”

“Thank you,” Athos responded. “We're driving to Marsac's house.” He hung up on the call and wondered if his job was at risk. His job was his life, if he lost it...and if Aramis was dead...

“Athos, please don't go into self-loathing mode,” Porthos suddenly said from beside him. “I need you with me on this.”

“I'm not,” Athos said but he was, dear god he was. He'd never hated himself more than he did in that moment. He felt like crying. Aramis had been so desperate to help them and help Marsac that he had signed his death warrant by doing so.

“He might be okay,” Porthos said reassuringly, trying to make himself feel hopeful at the same time no doubt. Athos nodded but didn't believe it. 

When they reached the address where Marsac officially lived, Athos did briefly contemplate waiting for the others to arrive but he knew that Porthos wouldn't wait. Marsac could be killing Aramis at that very moment as they sat in the car so they both promptly got up, pulled out their guns and darted up the front path towards the house. 

“His car is outside. We gonna kick the door in?” Porthos asked, leaning against the wall, trying to listen for any noises. 

“Every piece of police training is telling me to wait for back-up but I don't want to and I know you don't want to. So, if we do this, we both do it knowing full well we could be putting ourselves into serious danger, right?”

Porthos nodded, he seemed well aware of the dangers and, despite the fact Athos felt like he was going against every ounce of common-sense and police training, he wasn't going to hold back.

“Break the door down, Porthos.”

Athos had never seen anything like it before he met Porthos. Most policemen relied on various heavy tools to break into properties. Porthos just used his foot and, indeed, after two hard kicks the door burst open and Porthos yelled 'police!” before flying into the house. Athos followed, holding his gun up and their training kicked in. One by one they went into each room and quickly cleared it. 

There was no-one on the ground floor at all. Athos began to worry that Marsac wasn't even home. The place was too quiet but there were lights on and there was the car in the drive-way. Porthos thrust his face upstairs and Athos nodded in agreement. Porthos went up first with Athos following close behind, trying to go up the staircase as quietly as possible. At the top of the stairs Athos heard the first noise since they'd entered the house it sounded like...sobbing.

Porthos nodded towards the bedroom where the noise was coming from. They both crept up to the open door and stood either side of it. Porthos raised his hand and counted his fingers down from three then he shoved the door open and burst in with another cry of 'police!' Athos followed and heard Porthos shouting 'Get down on the ground!' before he had even managed to take in the scene. There was a body on the carpet, lying on its back but Porthos was pointing his gun at someone else who was sitting on the floor beside the bed, knees to his chest and crying. 

“On the ground, Marsac!” Porthos yelled and that's when Athos properly looked over. The man curled up sobbing was Marsac and he wasn't making any attempt to move. Athos gasped and turned back to look at the body on the carpet, quickly discovering why Marsac was in pieces.

“Aramis,” Athos gasped and shoved his gun back into its holster to fling himself down onto his knees beside the man who was lying still on the ground. He stared down, Aramis' closed eye-sockets were swollen and blood had trickled down from his nose and was now covering his chin. His arms and legs were spread out and he wasn't moving.

“Aramis?” he called in a pathetic attempt at getting some sort of a response. He reached out and immediately pressed his fingers into Aramis' bruised neck trying to find a pulse. At first he couldn't find one at all, so he readjusted his fingers slightly and there, he found one, it was faint but it was there.

“He's alive,” he informed Porthos who still had his gun pointing at devastated man sitting beside the wall. “Just about.” Athos pulled out his phone from inside his jacket and immediately requested an ambulance.

“I didn't mean to hurt him, I didn't mean to hurt him...” Marsac was mumbling.

“Fuck you,” Porthos said and got closer. He grabbed Marsac by the collar of his shirt and dragged him forward. Burying his knee into Marsac's back he pinned him to the ground. “Fuck you. You're under arrest for attempted murder.” With the gun still aimed at the back of Marsac's head, he reached into his pocket for the plastic hand-cuffs he always kept on his belt.

With Porthos dealing with Marsac, Athos leaned over Aramis and stroked some of his hair away from his forehead. He knew that Aramis was unconscious. The swollen face and the bruises in the shape of finger-marks on his neck gave an indication of what had happened, but he wanted to say something anyway.

“Hey, Aramis. It's Athos. I'm here now. You're going to be okay,” he whispered.


	7. The Aftermath

Constance and d'Artagnan turned up at the same time as the ambulance and Constance, understanding everything like she always did, offered to take Marsac back to the station so Athos and Porthos could follow the ambulance to the hospital. They both stood and watched on the pavement as Aramis was carried onto the back of the ambulance, strapped to the bed and still not moving. The medics were concerned about Aramis' breathing so wanted to get him seen to straight away.

When the ambulance began to move off Athos realised that they should be following. He turned to look at Porthos and saw that his boyfriend had tears in his eyes as he stared at the ambulance which was driving away.

“Come on,” Athos said. Standing on the pavement wasn't going to solve anything. It certainly wouldn't allow Athos to turn back the clock and do things all over again. Somehow he managed to drive a very quiet Porthos to the hospital and they were soon standing in the emergency room waiting to hear news. Athos still wasn't sure what to say. He felt so incredibly angry with himself that his ribs began to feel stiff and he had to breathe faster to get some air into his lungs. Only, the faster he was breathing, the worst it became. He panicked and reached out for the wall to steady himself. He could feel pins and needles in his fingers as they pushed against the plaster. If only he hadn't answered the phone, if only he had looked to see who was ringing...

He felt a hand suddenly touched him on the shoulder and Porthos was saying his name but he couldn't acknowledge him, he couldn't even move. He heard his name again even louder and then someone was in front of him but the figure was a blur. Athos felt frozen to the spot. Then the hand was touching him again, this time cupping his jaw and his head was moving, being turned to look up at the person standing there. His name was being repeated over and over until, eventually, Athos managed to focus on Porthos just enough to speak six words.

“I need to...wash my...hands,” he gasped. Porthos nodded and helped Athos walk slowly down the corridor by placing a strong, steady arm around his shoulders. His legs would move then, using some of Porthos' strength to do so. It didn't take them long to find a bathroom and Porthos stood very close as Athos began his ritual.

“It wasn't your fault,” Porthos told him, the first words he had spoken since Aramis was taken away from them. “We both put Aramis into this situation, we're both to blame.”

Athos looked over at Porthos. He hated the fact that Porthos was feeling part of the guilt that Athos felt like he should be holding alone. Once he had washed his hands three times and he could already breathe a lot better, well enough to talk at least. “Porthos, we spoke about this. Aramis knew what he was doing. We were trying to help him and stop Marsac.”

A little bit of a sad smile slowly moved across Porthos' face. “So how come you can can say all of that to me but you don't believe a word of it yourself?”

“I don't know,” Athos admitted because Porthos had a point. He sighed and continued washing his hands until he had done it five times and, promptly after his hands were dry, he was being embraced by Porthos and held tightly. The taller man muttering, “How come so many of our best relationship moments happened in bathrooms?”

“You know why,” Athos pointed out. “I'm sorry.”

“Say that again and I'm gonna dump you,” Porthos teased but a phone buzzing forced them to separate. This time it was Porthos' phone which he pulled to his ear. Porthos nodded a lot and said 'yes, sir' a lot which meant that Athos knew exactly who he was speaking to.

“Treville wants us back at the station,” Porthos explained once he had finished the call. “He wants us to interview Gilles and Marsac straight away.”

Athos nodded slowly. He didn't want to go to the station, he wanted to stay near Aramis but he was well aware that he still had his responsibilities and he didn't want to let the Captain down even more than he already had. The least they could do for Aramis was to make sure that Marsac was locked away for a very long time. But it was Porthos who said that Athos was thinking.

“Let's go and see him at least before we head off?” 

Athos was relieved that Porthos felt the same. They left the bathroom and eventually found the room where Aramis was lying on the bed with a tube down his throat. Although the blood had been wiped from his chin, Aramis face was swollen and red marks were already giving away to dark bruises. There was an older serious looking doctor there who explained the situation when they both appeared.

“His throat was crushed so it's very swollen. We've put a tube down it to help him breathe and we've sedated him. We'll be taking him up for an MRI scan to check for injuries to his skull and damage to his brain.”

He looked at them sadly before giving them some space. Athos felt sick at the thought Aramis' brain could be damaged but he told himself silently to stay positive, mostly for Porthos' sake as the man was already standing beside the bed, brushing some of Aramis' hair away from his face and talking in soothing voice. 

“We got him, Aramis. He's at the station. He can't hurt you anymore,” Porthos was whispering. Athos moved closer but found it difficult to look. Every mark, every bruise, it was his fault. Aramis had been helping them and Athos had rewarded that bravery by letting him down. He didn't want another anxiety attack so he decided to get his thoughts to focus on work, because rules made him feel better. Things made sense when there were rules and regulations to follow.

“We need to get a photographer to take pictures of his injuries for evidence,” Athos said but Porthos didn't pay Athos much attention. He was staring down at Aramis, still talking to him, still stroking his hair. Athos felt cruel to pull Porthos away but they had a job to do. The least they could do for Aramis was to do it well.

Back at the station Gilles was refusing to be interviewed until his lawyer was present and, when his lawyer arrived, he then said nothing; he just sat in front of Athos and Porthos and with his arms folded, looking down at the table and remaining silent. The only words spoken were from his lawyer who mostly said that his client was not going to comment on such matters. Athos found it frustrating but perhaps it didn't matter, he believed that they had gathered enough evidence with photographs of Gilles with Vadim and the lorry to send Gilles down for something. As soon as they gave up with the interview and headed out into the corridor they discovered that Constance and d'Artagnan were having more luck interviewing the drug-dealers, Phillipe seemed especially keen to talk.

“Already?” Athos asked, confused. He hadn't expected any of them to roll over quite so quickly.

“I'm being serious,” Constance insisted. “He's only 20, he doesn't want to spent the next few years inside. He said he'll tell us everything.”

“In exchange for?” Athos felt suspicious. He had hoped that Phillipe would give them some information but this appeared to be too good to be true.

“We drop the charges against him,” d'Artagnan explained. “But we'll get Vadim, Gilles and Marsac.”

Athos looked at Porthos who shrugged.

“Phillipe is small-time,” Porthos pointed out. “Letting him go free seems like a small price to pay for getting the others. We said we'd consider this option a while ago.”

“He's small time at the moment,” Athos pointed out. “He won't be forever. What if we let him go and he becomes the next Marsac?”

Constance shook her head. “Actually he wants to go and live with his family in New York. He said that he's sick of life in Paris. His family own a bakery in New York or something...I don't know, anyway, he won't be our problem for long.”

Athos sighed and decided to stop questioning why the lad would want to give information and just get the information. Anything to help them put Marsac behind bars, anything, for Aramis' sake. “Alright, go and talk to Treville. Get an agreement signed as quickly as you can. Then go back in there and get as much out of him as possible.”

Constance and d'Artagnan looked at each other surprised and Athos wasn't sure why until the youngsters bounded off and Athos realised that they were probably pleased that he had given them such an important responsibility, but why not? They had more than proved themselves and, in all honestly, Athos appreciated all the help he could get when he couldn't stop thinking about Aramis lying alone in hospital.

“I'll go and get Marsac,” Porthos muttered and then walked off. Athos watched him go then decided to go and make them both a coffee because he wasn't sure about Porthos, but Athos felt utterly exhausted and to have to interview Marsac when he just wanted to curl up somewhere and collapse wasn't a pleasing prospect.

So he entered one of the interview rooms with two mugs of coffee and passed one to Porthos who was already sitting down. Marsac was seated on the opposite side of the table on his own, which surprised Athos. He had expected Marsac to have called his lawyer but Marsac was just sitting there looking...empty. The raised eyebrow he got from Porthos confirmed that they were both as confused as each other.

When Athos sat down he continued to stare at the man in front of him. Marsac didn't look quite as intimidating as he had imagined. In fact, he looked quite normal, handsome in fact despite his big ears. His frame was slight and he could have easily been mistaken for a smart city stock-broker or some such type. It was hard to believe that the sad looking man in front of them was in fact a notorious pimp and a drug-dealer.

“Marsac,” Athos said to get his attention. “You're under arrest of the attempted murder of Rene d'Herblay and that's just the start. We're quite certain that we'll be-able to add a whole string of things within the next few hours. Is there anything you want to say?”

Marsac, still staring down at the metal gray table, shook his head from side-to-side. 

“So you...accept the charges against you?” Athos asked, rather surprised at the passive nature of the man. And, even more to his surprised, Marsac nodded and then finally spoke.

“So he's still alive?” came the small voice from the criminal sitting opposite them. 

“At the moment,” Porthos said grumpily with a frown. Athos knew that his boyfriend was holding back his emotions, they both were. “You crushed his throat pretty good.”

Marsac flinched at the description and, still refusing to look at either of them, spoke again. “I never meant to hurt him. I was just so angry. I can't even remember what happened it was like...like someone else was controlling me.”

Athos leaned forward a little, pressing his arms onto the table. “So you do admit that you attempted to kill him?”

“No!” Marsac protested and, for the first time, his head shot up and he looked straight at Athos. “I didn't want to kill him. I was just angry. Please...you have to believe me. I love Aramis. I love him so much.”

“That's a funny way to treat someone you love,” Porthos snorted and Athos shot him a bit of a 'be careful' look. Porthos' shoulders sunk at the sight of the silent warning and he managed to regain control of his anger again...almost. “And making him sell his body? Making him work at one of your brothels? Is that how you loved him as well?”

“You wouldn't understand,” Marsac mumbled.

“Try us,” Athos encouraged, hoping that Marsac was about to admit to owning the brothels as well. Marsac eyed them both up for a moment but then seemed to sink slightly, obviously resigned to the fact he was in trouble. 

“When I first met him he was so young. So innocent and sweet. He smiled at me on the street, seduced me with one stare. So I took him back to my place and we made love for the first time and I didn't want to let him go. I wanted to protect him from all of the bad people out there. That's the thing about Aramis you see, he has seen so much darkness but he's still so beautiful and kind.”

Athos' fingers began to curl into fists. He wanted to scream at Marsac. He wanted to tell Marsac that making Aramis working for him was not protecting him. That was not how you help and look after something. But somehow, amazing, he managed to keep his mouth shut. Marsac was telling them everything and they needed to listen. 

“So I looked after him. I made sure he stayed safe on the street and then I put him into my best brothel and I make sure that he serves some of my best clients.”

It was Porthos who lost his patience first and snapped. “That's not looking after him!”

Marsac's gaze turned towards Porthos in shock at the shout and he looked...confused. 

“Looking after him is getting him off the game,” Porthos pointed out, sounding slightly calmer but not much. Athos watched him, wondering if he would need to intervene but he decided to leave it for a moment to see what Porthos said. “Looking after him is getting him a decent apartment and helping him find a nice, normal job. That would have been looking after him.”

“I did give him a job and an apartment,” Marsac pointed out with a frown and it was then that Athos realised they were going off topic. The way Marsac 'looked' after Aramis wasn't their priority at the moment.

“Why was that brothel better than your others?” Athos asked quickly to interfere. He wanted Marsac to admit to owning more than just the one.

“It's in a nicer area and it has nicer clients. The other two I have well...we have more security issues with those and the clients tend to be a little more sadistic and violent. They have different...needs.”

Marsac really was just telling them everything, Athos could hardly believe it. He hadn't asked for a lawyer and he was literally telling them everything. As Porthos sat back in his seat, his arms folded tightly against his chest in a way that Athos assumed was his attempt at physically restraining himself from hitting Marsac, Athos continued interviewing Marsac for a little while longer until Marsac asked for some food so he decided to obliged. Whilst he had barely mentioned his drug-dealing business, he had certainly given them a lot of information on his brothels and Athos was in no doubt that Marsac's admission added to all of the other evidence they were gathering on him would see him locked away for a very long time.

He felt pleased, he felt relieved and he desperately wanted to go and check on Aramis. Only there was still a lot of work to do at the station and a lot of paperwork to complete. 

Athos' eyes were starting to physically hurt as he attempted to concentrate on the computer screen in front of him and continue writing his report about the last few hours. He had to sit back in his chair at one point and shake his limbs around a bit to will them to keep working. He eyed Porthos over the top of his screen, the poor man looked about as depressed as Athos had ever seen him. Porthos despised paperwork but he also knew that Porthos was probably sick with worry for Aramis.

Athos was only half-way through writing his report, trying to remember every single detail, when Treville appeared with his briefcase, looking like he was ready to go home.

“Why don't you two go and get some sleep?” he suggested. “We have everyone in custody for twenty-four hours. Get some sleep and finish your reports when you can actually keep your eyes open.”

Athos didn't like that suggestion at all. He never went home before finishing his reports. Porthos, however, had a very different reaction and immediately got up off his chair.

“Great idea, come on, Athos,” he said and slipped on his jacket. Athos pondered protesting and he would have done if he didn't have such an aching need to go and check on Aramis. So, hoping that's what they were doing, he saved his file, closed his computer down and turned the light on his desk on and off five times.

“You both did a good job today, lads,” Treville informed them before but his eyes were on Athos when he said it. Athos heard the words but he found them hard to accept. He didn't feel like he had done a good job at all, not with Aramis in hospital.

“I assume that we're going to...” he started as Porthos came over to him.

“Go and see Aramis first? Yes we are.”

By the time they got to the hospital Aramis had been moved up to intensive care as he was still under sedation. The good news was, according to his new doctor, the MRI scan had shown that were no fractures to his skull and there were no obvious signs of brain damage. Athos felt relieved although he knew that they'd have to still wait for Aramis to wake up to know for sure. 

There was only one chair beside Aramis' bed so Porthos went off to find another. Athos sat himself down in the sole chair and looked at the unconscious man whose chest was slowly rising and falling as he lay there asleep. Athos could barely stand to look at the mess which was still his face so he reached out and touched Aramis' arm with his fingers gently.

“I'm so sorry,” he whispered to the arm so that no-one else would hear. “It was my fault. I asked you to call me and then I told Marsac who I was. I was careless...I am so sorry. Please forgive me.”

Athos leaned forward and lowered his forehead down onto the bed, his fingers still touching Aramis' arm. The next time he opened his eyes he felt groggy and, the moment he tried to move, pain shot up his spine. It made him groan as he tried to force his aching muscles to work. Slowly, and painfully, he lifted up his head, surprised to see light coming in from the window down the other end of the ward and nurses busying themselves and hurrying around. On the other side of the bed there was Porthos, in a big chair and snoring. They must have fallen asleep. 

Athos slowly moved his head from side to side, trying to get the crick out of his neck. He reached up to rub it with his right hand as he looked at his watch on his left. Five hours had passed since they first go to the hospital. He was surprised that the nurses hadn't kicked them out. 

Spotting Athos awake one of the nurses came over with a smile.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked and Athos desperately did, despite the fact he wasn't sure how clean the cup would be and if it would taste nice. Thankfully she brought one over in a paper cup and it wasn't half bad. Athos sipped it as he sat back in the chair, watching the other two sleep. It was only when a doctor came up that Porthos snorted himself awake. The doctor had a look at Aramis' throat.

“The swelling is going down. I might stop the sedatives and let him wake up. I'd rather he didn't try to talk for a while though,” she looked pointedly at Athos. “Can you wait before you interview him?”

Athos looked up at the doctor confused as to why the doctor would think...of course the doctor would, they were detective's and Aramis had been attacked. 

“Yes, we can wait,” Athos said.

“Actually,” Porthos pipped up as he stretched out his arms in the chair. “We're friends of his. We're not just here on official business.”

Whilst Athos wasn't entirely sure Porthos should have said such a thing it did seem to make the doctor visibly relax as if she suddenly understood their 'unusual' attachment to the assault victim. 

“I was wondering...” the doctor admitted then wrote something onto Aramis' chart. “We'll stop giving him the drugs but he may well take another few hours to wake up.”

“That's fine,” Athos said. “We need to be back at the station. We'll come back later.”

“That's a good idea,” the doctor responded then went over to talk to the nurse. Athos looked over at Porthos on the other side of the bed.

“We should get back. Finish things off there.”

Porthos didn't look too pleased about the idea, in fact his bottom lip even began to wobble and Athos wasn't sure if he found that touching or infuriating. Still, he couldn't exactly tell Porthos off for getting too attached anymore when Athos was starting to suspect he was just as bad.

“What if he wakes up and we're not here?” Porthos whispered.

Athos did sigh as he stood and arched his back which hurt quite substantially at first. “He's a grown man, Porthos,” he groaned through the pain. “Not a lost kitten.”

“I found a lost kitten once,” Porthos said as he also stood up, stepping closer to the bed he placed his hand down onto the pillow next to Aramis' head. “My foster mother actually let us keep her as well. But then I kept on bringing more animals back and she began to get a little annoyed. I don't think the injured weasel went down very well.”

“That story doesn't surprise me in the slightest,” Athos said teasingly and smiled a little as he walked around the bed. Porthos stared down at Aramis for a few seconds and then clearly very reluctantly stepped away.

“Come on then. Let's get that paperwork finished and officially arrest that bastard Marsac for everything we can put on him,” Athos encouraged, reaching out and placing a hand on Porthos' shoulder.

Despite the fact Porthos wanted to hurry everything along Athos worked methodically to make sure that everything was done absolutely right and by the book. The last thing they wanted was for Marsac, Gilles or Vadim to get off because of a mistake on their part. D'Artagnan and Constance were preparing to go and arrest Vadim; Athos' suggestion, he wanted them both to have another good arrest on their records. So he was in the briefing room with them, going over a few details when Anne suddenly appeared in the doorway. Athos' muscles immediately tightened. 

“I hear congratulations are in order,” she said and smirked. Athos, surprised to see her, found himself unable to speak. It was Constance who turned and acknowledged Anne on his behalf.

“Yes, we've arrested Marsac and a few others. D'Artagnan and I are just off to arrest Vadim. We have pictures of him in the truck with the drugs and one of the dealers has been giving us information and told us Marsac gets his supply from Vadim.”

“Wow,” Anne actually sounded impressed although Athos suspected there was also a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “You really have done well. I'm surprised.” There was the sarcasm. Athos felt the sudden urge to protect the two youngsters.

“Go and fetch the uniformed cops and arrest Vadim before he goes into hiding,” he suggested. They both nodded and left the room. Anne watched them go, not hiding the fact she was looking at their backsides as they both left the room.

“I'm not sure which one I want to seduce the most. They're both so cute. Do you think they'll be up for a threesome?”

Athos felt his blood boil but he knew she was doing it purposely to get a reaction from him and he wasn't going to satisfy her.

“Are you here for a reason?” he asked grumpily. “Because, you might have noticed, we didn't actually need your help.” He was determined to give as much as he got. She smirked at him again and walked into the room.

“I'm just here to say well done.”

“I'm sure you are,” Athos snarled through gritted teeth. “But it's over now. Case closed. As soon as we have Vadim arrested all of the paperwork will go over to the lawyers and the Captain will give me a new case.”

“Good,” she said but didn't stop walking closer. Athos desperately wanted to step backwards to move away from her but ignored that desire and stood his ground stubbornly. “And then you won't have to see me anymore?” she asked, studying his face as she stopped just in front of him.

“Indeed,” he noted and it actually came out sounding more smug than he had intended.

“Well that's a shame, because I actually liked spending time with you again again.” She reached up and stroked her fingers along his stubble. Athos leaned his head back and averted his gaze away from her but now his legs wouldn't move.

“Anne...” he warned.

“I broke you, didn't I?” she asked, still stroking his face which was making a shiver go down the back of his spine and not in a pleasant way. “You were so sweet before. Now you're hard...cold.” 

Infuriated that she thought she had the right to judge him in any way, he reached up and gripped her wrist to pull her hand away from his face. 

“You don't care what you did to me,” Athos pointed out harshly, staring at her as he gripped onto her arm. “If you cared at all, you wouldn't have done it.”

“Oh, my darling, Athos,” she said, tilting her head to the side and speaking sweetly. “Don't pretend like you did nothing in return. You broke me as well.”

“You were already broken,” Athos snapped and pushed her arm away, letting go of the wrist. 

“Ouch,” Anne said but didn't move. “That's not very nice.”

“Please just leave,” Athos said and lowered his head, rubbing his fingers against his forehead he suddenly felt a desperate urge to check that his desk was in order. 

“Fine, I need to go anyway.” 

Anne, thankfully, actually did twist around and began to walk away. It was only when she was close to the door that she turned to look back over her shoulder at him.

“Did the whore survive? Aramis?”

Athos growled. “I don't know how you got the job in Vice. Clearly your empathy skills are lacking.”

“If someone empathizes too much they'd never survive Vice, or your job. Remember that, Athos.”

She continued to stand there as if still awaiting the answer to her question. Athos panicked for a brief moment that Anne knew Porthos and Athos had grown to like Aramis but, no, how would she know that? Perhaps she had heard Athos was to blame for the attack and wanted to gloat.

“He's still alive,” Athos said quietly.

“Good,” Anne responded and it actually sounded honest. And, with that, she left, leaving Athos desperate to do some sort of cleaning. He looked around the room and quickly noticed that the white board still had faded markings all over it. So he grabbed the board cleaner and got to work, scrubbing at it furiously.


	8. The Invitation

What Athos really wanted to do was get back to the hospital but first he needed to wash. He hadn't showered since the previous morning and he was beginning to feel incredibly uncomfortable in his own skin so he disappeared into the shower-room at the police station. It wasn't a place he often used but, sometimes in emergencies, it proved useful. So, just to be fully prepared, he had rented a locker in the room where he kept shampoo, shower-gel and a bunch of brand new still wrapped white shirts.

Before he could even use the shower he had to scrub the stall clean with the wipes from the cleaners cupboard. It was only then he deemed it suitable for washing in. So he hastily got undressed and stepped into the now spotless and bleach smelling cubicle. He made sure that the time he spent in the shower was as quick as possible whilst also being effective. When he came out of the shower cubicle he dried himself with the clean towel and began getting dressed. He was just doing up his new crisp clean shirt when Porthos burst into the room. 

“Wondered if you'd be in here,” he said swiftly, there was obviously with no time for a friendly greeting. “Hospital just called, Aramis is awake. Bloody told you he'd wake up when we weren't there.”

Porthos immediately marched over and nimbly helped Athos with the buttons of his shirt. Athos let him, assuming that Porthos was just trying to hurry him up. Porthos even then turned up the collar of Athos' new shirt and swung the tie around his neck, doing that up for Athos also. Athos smiled warmly at the gesture, even though Porthos was too frantic to be paying much attention to his own kindness, Athos certainly appreciated it.

“Quick,” was all Porthos said once Athos was fully dressed and looking presentable. Athos grabbed his jacket which was hanging inside the locker and they both headed to the hospital. 

Once they were back at the familiar ward of the intensive care unit Aramis, they discovered, that was indeed awake and sitting up slightly on his narrow hospital bed. Athos was relieved to discover the sight. Aramis still looked like he had lost a boxing match. He had a dark bruise across his cheek-bone, another on his forehead, a third large one on his jaw, a split lip, a swollen eye and his neck was covered in marks but he was alert and very much awake. He even smiled when he saw them both and opened his mouth to speak.

“Uh-uh, Rene,” the stout but friendly looking nurse said to him as she hoovered close-by. “Remember what the doctor said, use the pen and paper.”

As Athos and Porthos moved to stand closer to the bed as Aramis scrunched his face up in frustration as he reached for the black pen and white notebook which was perched on lap. He lifted the pen, held the pad and promptly scribbled something down quickly before holding it up, turning the pad around and showing it to them. Porthos squinted and stepped even closer, trying to decipher the messy writing.

“Feed...Fro...Frodo. Feed Frodo?”

Aramis nodded frantically and opened his mouth again to speak before remembering his orders but continued to nod, a look of worry clear in his pleading eyes.

“You want us to feed your dog?” Porthos chuckled and sat down on the edge of the bed to get closer to Aramis. Aramis watched him and didn't seem to mind the gesture. “Yeah, we will. You know what, we can take him back to ours if you like? Look after him until you get better.”

Athos flinched at the 'ours' slip Porthos had just made and hoped that Aramis wouldn't have noticed. Unfortunately, judging by the shocked look on Aramis' face as he turned from Porthos, to Athos and then back again, he obviously had heard it and understood what Porthos had meant by it. Then Aramis smiled, the side of his mouth without the split in the lip managed to get higher than the other. Still, the lopsided grin looked rather adorable, Athos mused, until he realised what an absurd thought that was and stepped forward until his legs were almost touching the end of the bed.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. The memory and concern for the dog seemed to imply that Aramis wasn't suffering from any great brain damage but Athos wasn't sure how Aramis felt in the emotional sense. Was he angry at them? He certainly didn't seem to be. Was he angry at Marsac? It was impossible to tell. Aramis opened his mouth to respond but then grunted in annoyance and scribbled on the paper again. When he lifted it up to Athos, Athos read the words which said 'fine, thanks. You?'

Athos suddenly experienced an unexpected sense of sadness wash over him. Aramis had almost been killed by someone who had supposedly loved him and he was asking how Athos was? Athos, feeling tears begin to well up in his eyes, had to turn away and walk out of the room before anyone would notice. Out in the corridor he took deep breaths and tried to stop the tears. Why was Aramis not furious with him? Why was Aramis not blaming Athos for the fact he had almost been killed?

Athos tried to calm himself down by taking steady breaths but, if anything, his breathing was only becoming more frantic. He looked up in a state of panic and saw some alcohol hand-gel in a machine pinned to the wall so he raced over to it. He immediately poured a generous amount out onto his hands and began to rub it rather hysterically into his skin. Or at least he did until Porthos appeared and placed his hands firmly on Athos' shoulders from behind.

“Stop that, come on. Come and talk to him. He's worried about you.”

Porthos took full advance of the fact Athos didn't have it in him to either argue or physically stop Porthos from gently pushing him back into the room and guiding Athos back towards the bed. He continued to rub the alcohol gel into his fingers until, before he knew it, he was standing in front of Aramis once more. Aramis was looking terribly worried, as if he was concerned that he had done something wrong. There was an awkward silence for a while before Aramis turned back to his pad and wrote something down again. When he held it up for them to see, it was just one single word 'Marsac?'

Athos wasn't entirely sure what Aramis was asking so he opened his mouth to question it but then found nothing come out. So he paused, took in a deep breath, and reminded himself silently that he was Detective Sergeant de la Fare and Aramis was nothing more than their informant and he needed to do his job. 

“He has been arrested and charged with grievous bodily harm, operating prostitution businesses, deriving financial gain from the prostitution of others and the dealing and transportation of class A drugs,” Athos said, the facts spilling out before he could stop them. Then he waited for a reaction.

Aramis listened with wide eyes then looked down and scribbled 'will he go to jail?'

“Yes,” Porthos responded to the question. “If he's found guilty he will. And he probably will be, on at least most of those charges.”

Aramis nodded and suddenly appeared to be upset. He pushed the pad and pen away before sinking down on the bed. He then rolled onto his side, curled his legs up and Aramis became nothing more than a lump beneath the bed-sheets.

Porthos immediately moved forward to the side of the bed which Aramis had rolled towards. Athos watched as Porthos' hand reached out to touch Aramis but then Porthos obviously thought better of it before he pulled his hand away.

“Aramis,” Porthos said, stepping back and slowly lowered himself down onto the chair he had slept in before. “You know you did the right thing, don't you?”

There was no response from the injured man. From the angle where he stood, Athos couldn't even see if Aramis had his eyes open or not.

“He almost killed you,” Porthos continued. “He came very close. It was only because Athos and I turned up...” Porthos didn't finish his sentence, perhaps realising that he didn't need to. Aramis was the one lying in bed with a bruised swollen neck after all. 

“He loves me...” a very quiet horse voice whispered. Athos stepped around the bed a little to stand closer to Porthos. Then he could see Aramis' face. He did have his eyes open but he was staring blankly at the curtain separating his bed from the next.

“Aramis, Marsac is...” Athos began but suddenly Porthos interrupted.

“...a very disturbed man but he does love you very much.” Porthos said, giving Athos a pointed look although Athos wasn't sure why but he let Porthos continue. “But he also hurt you and that was very wrong. You shouldn't hurt people that you love.”

Aramis nodded against the pillow in some sort of agreement and Athos decided to let Porthos do the talking from now. What he was going to say about Marsac had been very different. Psychopathic, manipulative monster were three words which had automatically come to mind.

“You're going to be okay,” Porthos whispered, leaning forward to do so, making a promise which Athos wasn't very sure he would be-able to keep. Porthos even reached out and brushed some of Aramis' curls away from his face and Aramis closed his eyes, seemingly a little more comforted and content.

“Get some rest, mate. We'll go and see Frodo. How do we get into your apartment?”

Aramis croaked something so quietly that Athos could barely hear him but Porthos was closer and seemed to understand the instructions as he nodded and stood up from the chair. 

“Alright, get some more sleep. We'll be back later.”

It was only when Athos was standing inside Aramis' apartment once more where an excited dog was bouncing up against Porthos did he suddenly realised that he should have put his foot down about the idea back at the hospital.

“He's not coming home with us,” he said, being clear and explicit in his words. He wasn't going to move on this one even if it caused the mother of all arguments.

“Why not?” Porthos asked, smiling and scratching the happy dog behind the ears. The big man was already clearly in love but Athos would not allow himself to be swayed by a pair of big brown eyes and floppy ears.

“Because it's a dog, Porthos.”

Porthos turned and looked at Athos with a raise of an eyebrow saying nothing for a moment until the side of his lip began to twitch and Athos knew full well his boyfriend was attempting not to laugh. “I can see now why they made you a detective.”

“You know what I mean,” Athos snapped and, without meaning to, folded his arms across his chest. Porthos allowed himself to chuckle as he turned back to the dog which still had its front paws up against Porthos' chest and was loving the attention.

“We can't leave him here. He'll be lonely. Dogs are pack animals, they need company.”

“It was a stray before Aramis found him,” Athos pointed out. “He survived then.”

“Are you really suggesting we turf him out onto the streets again?” Porthos frowned at the thought and even pouted slightly as well. It caused Athos to sigh and he unfolded his arms slowly. He didn't actually want the dog to be on the streets, he just didn't want it in their house either.

“No but I...I can't live with a dog, Porthos.”

“Ah,” Porthos said, as if the real problem was slowly starting to dawn on him. Athos had been wondering when he'd get there. Porthos gently pushed Frodo down from his chest but bent forward and patted the dog gently. “Sorry, you can't, can you? You'll be worried about...dog germs and all that.” He then looked over at Athos his face full of guilt. “Sorry, love, I wasn't thinking.”

“It's okay,” Athos said softly, it was his problem after all, not Porthos'. Porthos was exceptionally kind and supportive about everything Athos had brought to the relationship and Athos often wished that he could change for Porthos. Well he had changed, perhaps, some things had changed but there were still some things he hadn't been-able to change and his OCD was one of those.

“I've got an idea. Let's call Constance,” Porthos suggested after obviously giving it some thought. “She might be-able to take the dog. It's not safe for either Aramis or the dog to be here now, not if everyone on the street knows Aramis is a snitch.”

Athos nodded but also squinted at his boyfriend as he began to have a horrible feeling that they'd be having the very same conversation about Aramis in a couple of days time. 

They did. Even though the case had been wrapped up, information passed onto the courts and, apart from probably having to testify at some point, most of the case was now out of their hands. But Porthos still wanted to spend every spare minute they had at the hospital. Aramis was allowed to talk the following day and, the day after that, his doctor was satisfied that he was well enough to go home. Only what 'home' meant to Aramis now was clearly a wash of confusion which was even evident on the man's bruised face when they went to see him.

“I don't know what to do,” Aramis admitted as he sat up in the hospital bed, still wearing a gown. His voice was sounding louder and clearer than it had the day before. “I assume the brothel has been shut down. Even if I could find out where they've all gone, they won't want me back, they all know what I did.”

“You won't be going back,” Porthos said quite forcefully as both of the off-duty detective's stood either side of the bed. “You're never going back there.”

“Then what will I do?” Aramis asked, genuinely puzzled about the whole thing. “I don't want to work the streets again. I don't want to go back to that.”

“Are you kidding me?” Porthos asked, and then made a noise which started as a chuckle but ended in a sigh. “Aramis...” he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed. “...you never have to sell your body ever again. You know that don't you?”

Aramis just looked...perplexed. In fact he raised an eyebrow then glanced over at Athos obviously hoping Athos would help in some way. Athos didn't have a clue what to say but he was having a growing suspicion that his boyfriend was going to soon suggest something which was a very, very bad idea.

“You can come and live with us for the time-being,” and there it was.

“Porthos!” Athos interjected but Porthos completely ignored him.

“We'll help you get back onto your feet. Maybe find you some connections in another part of France so you can move away from Paris and start all over again. Get you a new job.”

“Doing what?” Aramis asked, still seemingly completely unconvinced by the whole idea.

“Don't worry about that now,” Porthos suggested and got up again, patting Aramis' covered leg. “Let's just get you dressed back to ours.” 

Then Porthos moved away to give Aramis some privacy and Athos stood there flabbergasted. Porthos obviously knew that he had shocked his boyfriend because he was doing everything to avoid Athos' gaze. But Athos needed to put a stop to the whole thing then and there and he didn't care if he upset Aramis in the process.

“Porthos, this isn't actually going to happen. Aramis can't stay with us.”

But it wasn't Porthos who responded, it was Aramis, as he wiggled about on the bed and pulled some jeans on underneath his hospital gown.

“Does Porthos design office blocks in his spare time? You know, considering he's an architect and everything.” When Aramis looked over at them he was smiling cheekily at Athos. 

Athos rolled his eyes. “It was inappropriate for you to have known...in fact it's still completely inappropriate that you know.”

Aramis lay flat and stretched out his legs as he finished pulling up his jeans. He was also frowning. “I'm not going to tell anyone.”

Athos felt like he was going to explode, they were both infuriating him. 

“Porthos,” he grumbled. “A word?” 

He turned and marched out into the hallway, assuming Porthos would follow. When he glanced over his shoulder he discovered that his boyfriend was there with his head down looking like a five-year old whose hand had been caught in the cookie jar. 

Athos didn't know where to start in truth; he knew in the forefront of his mind that Aramis coming to live with them even temporarily was a terrible idea but, somewhere else in his head he already knew that he was going to give in and let it happen. Perhaps because he wanted to help Aramis as well. Even so, he was going to make a good show of his protesting.

He was just opening his mouth to do so when Porthos managed to sneak in first.

“I know this is a bad idea, I know you don't want to do it but I'm just asking you to please, for me. Just let him stay for a few days so I can help him out. Then he'll be gone from our lives forever but we'll sleep comfortably knowing we did the right thing by him.”

And Athos looked at his boyfriend and those pleading eyes which were actually worse than Aramis'. They were full of such silent beseeching that Athos suddenly had a horrible feeling if he protested too much then he could do damage to their relationship. He slowly began to realise that maybe this was one of those moments in life when he just needed to let something happened...even if it was going to kill him.

“Fine,” he said, but attempted not to sound too overly enthusiastic about the idea.

Porthos looked shocked and then confused. He tilted his head to the side a little as if wondering if Athos was being serious.

“What?” 

“I said fine,” Athos pointed out. “He can come and stay with us for a few days. I know you have some friends dotted all over France. Perhaps one of them can take him on, help him apply for jobs, then he can move out and we can move on.”

“Oh,” was Portho's reaction. He had obviously been expecting more of a fight. But, upon the realisation that he wasn't going to get one, he began to smile.

“Thank you, Athos. I love you. You're wonderful.” 

He then disappeared back into the hospital ward, leaving Athos standing there to roll his eyes but, somewhere deep down, he felt secretly pleased that they'd be spending more time with Aramis despite the fact it was going to be a nightmare having someone else live with them. What if Aramis was messy or...moved things around too much? Panic began to set in but, when he walked back into the room and witnessed Porthos gently helping Aramis get off the bed, his worry calmed slightly. Porthos was so gentle and sweet, he would be good for Aramis.

“You'll be a bit dizzy for a while, just take it easy,” Porthos was saying, waiting until Aramis seemed steady before slowly letting go. Aramis nodded and waited for a moment before reaching out for the sweater Porthos and Athos had gathered from his apartment. The bruises were starting to heal on Aramis' face and they now looked yellow and green instead of black and purple. Still, even with the bruises, Athos couldn't help but notice how handsome the man was.

They took Aramis to his own apartment to collect anything he might need. It didn't take long because Aramis didn't own very much. Aramis wouldn't stop asking questions about Constance, still far more concerned about Frodo than he was about himself.

“So she lives on her own?” he was asking as he shoved some clothes into a black bin-bag.

“No,” Porthos told him, as he helped him collect a few books. “She has a house-mate who works as a paramedic but she's really nice as well. Frodo is probably getting very spoiled.”

Athos watched them both pack up a few more things then Aramis swung the bag over his shoulder and appeared to be finished.

“You got everything?” Porthos asked as he carried the box full of books and items from the bathroom.

“I think so,” Aramis said, looking around. “I mean there's my guitar but I'm not sure I can carry it.”

Athos, realising that it was one of the few personal items Aramis appeared to have, stepped froward. “I'll carry it,” he offered and went over to the corner of the room to pick up the instrument. “Aramis, have you collected your medication?” he asked, thinking that the pills were probably the most important thing for Aramis to remember; oddly he hadn't.

“Oh yeah,” he said. “The hospital gave me some but I'd better get the rest.” Aramis and bag disappeared into the bathroom and Porthos looked concerned, turning back at Athos who gave him a bit of a shrug. He wasn't sure what he had been trying to say with the shrug but, by the frown he got back from his boyfriend, he discovered that it obviously wasn't the right response. Aramis soon emerged with three pots of pills of which he obviously wasn't that strict about taking. He then shoved them into his bag and they finally all got back into the car. 

“What is the medication for?” Porthos asked as he drove. Athos kept his mouth-shut to see if Aramis would answer. Much to his surprise, considering Aramis was usually so honest, the man didn't seem keen to talk about.

“I'm not ill, I'm fine,” he mumbled as he sat in the back-seat but then perked himself up again. “So, can Frodo can and stay with us now that I'll be there?”

Now Aramis staying with them Athos was slowly coming to terms with but he hadn't considered the fact Aramis would want the dog there as well. That thought was even more horrifying. There was absolutely no-way he could cope with another person and a dog in his personal space. Thankfully Porthos helped out.

“Athos is...allergic to dogs,” Porthos came up with, for which Athos was very grateful.

“Oh, sorry, I didn't realise,” Aramis responded and, actually, didn't sound hugely disappointed although Athos suspected that he probably was. “Well, if it's alright that he stays with this Constance for a while, I can have him again once I've moved out from yours, can't I?”

“Yes,” Porthos said with a nod. “He's your dog, Aramis. You can do whatever you like. Constance is just looking after him for you.”

“Yes. She's feeding him twice a day, is she? And taking him out for walks?”

This time Porthos chuckled. “Aramis, stop bloody worrying about Frodo, he's more than fine. Let's worry about you.”

“Why do we need to worry about me?” Aramis asked, sounding like he genuinely didn't understand the comment.

“Indeed,” was all Porthos said.


	9. The Nightmare

When they got back to the house Athos was sulking and silently fuming on the inside, although he wasn't sure why considering he had agreed to the ridiculous arrangement. Still, he felt grumpy about it so he left Porthos to show Aramis around the house and introduce him the sofa-bed which would be his bed for the next few days. Athos himself went up the stairs to escape into the bedroom where he opened up his laptop and read through some work emails. He had no-idea how long he'd been in there before Porthos appeared, looking a little sheepish.

“He's having a shower. You alright?” Porthos asked as he came over to the bed and sat down onto it, facing Athos. 

“I'm fine,” Athos muttered, not really paying attention because he was still catching up with his inbox. Porthos must have known because he reached out and placed his hand on top of the laptop and pushed the screen closed a little. Athos' fingers froze mid-typing and he looked up at his boyfriend.

“What?” he asked, slightly annoyed that Porthos was interrupting him. 

“I just wanna check you really are cool with this?” Porthos said.

“I am,” Athos attempted to promise. “I told you it was fine.”

Porthos nodded his agreement. “I know but I also know it's actually not fine. And I know you're probably doing it because you still feel guilty. But you know, love...” Porthos moved forward, pulling his leg up to tuck it under the other, he lifted the laptop right off Athos' lap and placed it down onto the mattress away from them both. 

Athos understood by the action that Porthos must really want his attention so he decided to kindly give it to him. Or at least he remained patient as he waited for Porthos to finish what he had started to say. “...why don't we tell Aramis about your OCD? Because I know what it was like when I first moved in and how stressed you felt about it all and how it took us both a long time to figure things out. Aramis is going to move things around, leave his wet towels on the floor, dirty plates on the kitchen counter...I mean I'm just assuming here, he might not do those things but he will do some things and I know you're going to find it difficult.”

“It's only for a few days,” Athos pointed out because he knew Porthos was right, he had been worrying about the same but, if it was only a few days, he could cope. He was planning to spend most of that time at work anyway.

“Well...just in case,” Porthos suggested. “Why don't you tell him? Or let me tell him?”

“No,” Athos said very quickly. "It's only for a few days, Porthos. You said so yourself. This isn't the first time you've brought someone home like this. I'll be fine."

Porthos didn't appear to seem as certain but he did reach over and run his fingers through Athos' hair affectionately which Athos assumed was an action done in an attempt at reassurance.

"And hopefully Aramis won't steal all our furniture," Porthos added.

Athos frowned at that memory which made Porthos chuckle and move to leave Athos be.

"I'll go and make us all something to eat. Something vegetarian."

As soon as Porthos was gone Athos grabbed his laptop again and continued with his work. Or at least he did for a few minutes until a crash then a 'shit' permeated through the wall from the bathroom. Athos wondered if Porthos would deal with it but then, upon realising Porthos was downstairs and probably hadn't even heard, Athos reluctantly got off the bed and went out into the hallway.

He rapped his knuckles against the bathroom door.

"Aramis, are you alright in there?"

When Aramis didn't reply Athos began to worry. What if Aramis was having a fit? Although the swearing seemed to go against that theory. He knocked again.

"Aramis?"

The bathroom door slowly opened and a very guilty looking man wearing nothing but a blue towel around his waist appeared.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Aramis was saying as he opened up the door further so Athos could see. "I only tugged the towel off and the whole thing came down. I'm so sorry, I'm sorry."

Aramis sounded mortified but Athos didn't have to look to know what he was talking about.

"The towel rail falls down all of the time, don't worry about it," he pointed out. "Porthos keeps saying he'll fix it then forgets."

"I'm so sorry," Aramis was still saying like he wasn't even listening. He turned his back to Athos and went over to the towel rail to pick it up. He then attempted to hook it back onto the wall which Athos knew from experience wasn't easy.

"Aramis, it doesn't matter," Athos repeated and stepped into the bathroom. Aramis was still trying to put the rail back up and Athos could see that his attempt was all the more challenging by the way his hands were shaking. Athos ended up walking across the bathroom because Aramis clearly wasn't paying attention to anything he was saying. So he took the other end of the pole and tried to assist the frantic man and eventually, together, they managed to hook the pole back onto the nails.

"There see, no harm done," Athos assured Aramis who still seemed upset. Aramis was staring at the floor, droplets of water rolling down his chest, shaking as if he was cold.

"What's the matter?" Athos asked, trying to understand the extreme reaction to what had been an accident.

"If you kick me out, I don't know what I'll do, I don't know where I'd go," Aramis whispered to the floor. "I don't know what to do without him."

Athos assumed that the 'him' was Marsac and it was starting to really dawn on him that Aramis was really quite lost without his master. Perhaps the reality of everything which had happened was starting to sink in for the bruised and broken man. There was only one thing Athos could think of to say.

"We have no intention of kicking you out. Not until we know you'll be okay."

The statement seemed to cause Aramis to lift his head slowly and look at Athos somewhat suspiciously.

"Why are you helping me?" Aramis asked slowly and cautiously. Athos wasn't sure how to respond. Half because this is all my fault and half because Porthos is forcing me, didn't seem like an adequate answer and Athos was no idiot, he knew that he had to be careful what he said. So he thought about it for a while and he could see the longer he was silent the more Aramis began to look anxious but he eventually came up with a response which he felt would be satisfactory.

"Because you helped us, so we want to help you."

Then it was Aramis' turn to stay quiet for a moment before he nodded slowly. "Okay."

Deciding that the conversation must be over Athos left the bathroom to give Aramis some privacy and went back to his laptop. He only moved again when Porthos yelled that the food was ready.

When he got to the kitchen Aramis was already sitting at the table with wet hair but clothes on, looking at the plate of food in front of him like he'd never seen so much food before in his entire life. Athos suspected that he probably hadn't, Porthos did have a habit of producing big portions.

Porthos smiled over at Athos as he sat down and then was given his own plate of cooked vegetables and cous cous. Athos waited for Porthos to join then.

"Tuck in," Porthos suggested once he was at the table and lifted up his knife and fork. Athos glanced over at Aramis then found himself watching with curiosity as Aramis closed his eyes, moved his lips as if he was speaking quietly, said 'amen' a little louder then picked up his own knife and fork but didn't eat. He was still staring down at the food like he had no-idea what to do with it. Porthos obviously picked up on the problem as well.

"Don't feel like you have to eat all of it," Porthos informed their guest. "Just eat what you can."

Aramis nodded and, as if having permission made it okay, he shoved his fork into the food and had a mouthful. By the time he swallowed he was smiling which Athos could see made Porthos relax before the man made a valiant attempt at conversation.

"It's d'Artagnan's birthday on Friday," Porthos informed Athos as they all ate. "Constance has organised drinks after work. It would mean a lot to the kid if you were there."

Athos raised an unamused eyebrow.

"Just a couple of drinks," Porthos continued. "Just going for an hour won't kill you."

"It might," Athos mumbled before putting more food into his mouth. Porthos smiled sympathetically and reached underneath the table to give Athos' leg a squeeze. During his marriage break-up Athos had drunk far too much and found it very difficult to stop. But, when left with a choice between drinking and losing his job, he had found the strength to end his reliance on alcohol. Now bars and pubs just reminded him of his weakness but Porthos was right, going to one for a short-time wouldn't kill him and it probably would make young d'Artagnan happy.

Athos turned to watch Aramis to make sure that he was eating something. Aramis was, just slowly and he seemed to push his food around a lot with his fork between mouthfuls. In fact he only had a third of it when he put his fork down and sat back in his seat.

"I'm sorry, I can't eat anymore."

Athos had wrongly assumed that the far too slim man would wolf the food down but, perhaps, he was so used to not eating much that he really was struggling to fit it all in. Athos wasn't going to say anything and he hoped that Porthos had the sense not to make a big deal of it either. He needn't have worried, Porthos always knew the right thing to say.

"You did really well," Porthos smiled which made Aramis smile a little back. Athos watched the look between the two of them linger before Aramis broke the gaze, staring down at his half-eaten plate of food again.

After the meal Athos offered to load up the dish-washer so that Porthos could help Aramis with the sofa-bed. He could hear them both talking as they constructed Aramis' bed for the night, the conversation was mostly about Frodo and Porthos appeared to be promising Aramis that they could see the dog tomorrow. Athos left them to it and disappeared back into the bedroom again. He was going to do more work but he felt tired so he began his evening rituals, which often took time. He folded up his dirty clothes and placed them into the wash-basket, he put on a clear pair of pyjama bottoms, he washed his face thoroughly, vigorously brushed his teeth before using dental floss and mouthwash, all in a set order and done in a set way. He turned the bathroom light-switch on and off five times and jumped when he stepped back out into the hallway and found Aramis standing there, doing a little dance from foot-to-foot.

“I didn't mean to make you jump,” Aramis said, apologising for startling Athos and his 'needing to pee' dance stopped momentarily as his gaze sunk down to stare at Athos' naked chest. Athos felt uncomfortable about the fact Aramis was looking at first then he felt...excited about the way Aramis appeared to be admiring him. But it only lasted a couple of seconds because, abruptly, Aramis apologised again and then he jumped around Athos to disappear into the bathroom. Athos tried not to think much of it and continued walking to the bedroom where he got settled into bed.

He was beginning to doze off when the bedside lamp came on and the mattress rocked.

“Sorry,” Porthos whispered, obviously aware of the fact he had woken Athos up but Athos didn't mind, especially when big arms embraced him and pulled him close. Athos settled his cheek against Porthos' warm chest and snuggled up against Porthos' side. He felt Porthos press his lips to the top of his head.

“Go back to sleep, love,” Porthos encouraged so Athos did so.

At some point during the night when the bedroom was only faintly lit by the street-lamp outside, Athos was woken up by a strange noise. In his drowsy half-asleep state he couldn't quite understand what it was. It sounded like an animal whining. He decided to ignore it, assuming that it was coming from outside so closed his eyes again. But then there was a thud which clearly came from inside the house. 

Suddenly the bed covers were flung off his body, exposing his bare skin to the cold and Porthos began to move. Athos lifted up his head as Porthos scrambled off the bed and, in nothing but his underwear, opened up the bedroom door and raced out. 

Confused as to what was going on, Athos also pushed himself up sluggishly and slowly swung his legs off the bed, pausing for a moment to get his bearings. It was only when he was sitting up that he heard screaming coming from downstairs and Porthos calmly speaking although Athos couldn't make out any of the words. Worried that something had happened, Athos forced his legs to work and he left the bedroom to head downstairs where he discovered what the commotion was about. Sitting on the floor, Porthos had Aramis cradled against his chest with an arm around the man's body, hand on the side of his head rocking him slowly.

“You can breathe, you can breathe...” he was saying softly. “It was just a bad dream.”

Aramis was sobbing against his chest and attempted to shake his head beneath Porthos' comforting hand.

“You can breathe, Aramis, just calm down.”

Porthos' fingers began stroking through the hair but the noise of Aramis' panicked wheezing had Athos worrying. He, of all people, could sympathize with Aramis' situation and knew exactly what to do. He disappeared into the kitchen area, opened a drawer and pulled out one of the small brown paper bags he kept in there for his anxiety attacks. He carried it back over to Aramis and knelt down on the carpet in front of him.

“Breathe into his,” he encouraged. “This will help.”

He made a small seal and reached out to place it gently over Aramis' mouth and nose. Aramis reached out a shaky hand and took the bag, breathing rapidly into it the bag inflated and deflated quickly. Porthos had let go a little so Aramis could sit up properly. Athos could see Aramis' chest was moving far too fast.

“Listen to me, Aramis,” Athos said, bending forward slightly, trying to catch his gaze. “Breathe in with me. In...one...two...three....and then out...one...two...three...” Athos breathed in time to his counting and saw the panicked eyes were now staring at him. Aramis tried to copy Athos, breathing in slowly with the count and then out again. At first he was still going too quickly but soon the bag and his breathing settled down to a steadier pace. Athos smiled his encouragement. 

“There, much better,” he said, reaching out he squeezed Aramis' leg and knelt back a little once Aramis had calmed down. Porthos was still there, sitting beside Aramis with a supportive arm around his shoulders. After another couple of minutes Aramis pulled the bag away from his face looking wearied and pale.

“I dreamt that someone had their fingers around my neck,” he explained in a quiet voice. “I couldn't breathe. I thought I was going to die.”

Athos shared a sad glance with Porthos and began to wonder if Aramis really did fully remember what Marsac had done to him. Clearly he was dreaming about it. He wasn't sure if he should question Aramis on the matter but decided to remain silent and let Porthos do the comforting even though he himself couldn't seem to pull his hand away from Aramis' leg.

“It was just a dream, mate,” Porthos said. “No-one's going to hurt you when you're here with us. I won't let them. Come on, let's get you back onto the bed.”

Aramis turned his head to look up at Porthos and even managed a small smile. It made Athos feel warm inside watching them both interact with each other. Porthos' caring nature was going to be good for Aramis, he knew that much, even just for the few short days Aramis would be with them.

“I'm sorry, I've woken you both up,” Aramis suddenly said, as he got up for a moment before sitting back onto the sofa bed which he had obviously fallen off. “You've probably got work tomorrow. I'm so sorry. Please, go back to bed. It was just a stupid dream. I'm fine, honestly I am.”

Then Aramis moved backwards onto the bed to put some distance between himself and Porthos. Athos took that as a cue to stand up. Porthos hesitated a little longer.

“Alright,” Porthos eventually said as he got up off the floor. “But we're right upstairs if you need us, okay? Just come up if, for any reason, you need us.”

Aramis nodded and smiled again. Athos, feeling quite satisfied that Aramis was indeed okay for the moment went back up to bed and waited for Porthos to settle before turning the light on and off five times and crawling into the bed.

“Athos...” Porthos said in the darkness and Athos waited for the rest of the sentence but it never seemed to come.

“Yes?” he asked, curling up and snuggling up against his boyfriend again. Porthos moved and wrapped himself around Athos, obviously appreciative of the gesture.

“...we should probably talk tomorrow,” Porthos eventually said. Athos shrugged. He wasn't sure what Porthos wanted to talk about but he had his suspicions that it was something to do with Aramis.

“Alright,” Athos agreed and nothing more was said so Athos eventually fell back to sleep until his alarm-clock woke him up bright and early. He immediately flung himself out of bed to begin his morning rituals as Porthos groaned and rolled onto his other side to sleep further.

Athos knew that Porthos probably wasn't even in the shower yet by the time Athos was downstairs, fully dressed and making breakfast. He had worried about waking Aramis up but Aramis was already awake and wearing a different outfit which looked about as old and scruffy as all of his other clothes. His hair was also a chaotic mess because he clearly hadn't brushed it, but Athos thought the excessive curls were endearing. Aramis was leaning against the kitchen counter and watching Athos make breakfast.

“What time will you finish work?” Aramis queried as Athos began to scramble the eggs. He had offered to make Aramis breakfast but Aramis had insisted that he wasn't hungry yet. Athos suspected that the man was probably still full from the evening before.

“We don't really have a set time,” Athos explained to him. “Whenever we finish. I don't even know what we'll be doing today yet.” 

“But, when you finish, we can go and see Frodo?” Aramis asked.

Aramis and that stupid dog, Athos thought in his head. It would be better for everyone if that dog just...no, Athos, stop the mean thoughts, he told himself. Outwardly he managed to say, “Sure, if you want to.”

“And Marsac?”

It was that request which shocked Athos. In fact he dropped the pan of scrambled egg back onto the hob and turned to look at the man who was standing in the kitchen.

“W-what?” he stuttered his response.

Aramis looked anxious and suddenly averted his gaze from Athos a little. “I was just thinking...that I'd like to see him.”

“You want to see Marsac?” Athos asked again, wanting to make sure that he had heard the request properly. 

As if finding some confidence somewhere, Aramis pushed himself up to stand straighter and removed his hands from the kitchen counter. “Yes,” he confirmed. “Is he still at the police station?”

“No,” Athos said, still in utter shock. “He's being remanded in custody in jail. He'll be going in front of a judge at some point over the next couple of days so bail and a date for his court case can be set.”

“So I can visit him in jail?” Aramis asked, not letting up. Athos really didn't know what to say to the man. In fact he glanced towards the stairs briefly, wishing that Porthos would walk down them and help him out. Why on earth would Aramis want to go and visit the man who had tried to kill him? He once again questioned how much of that evening Aramis actually remembered and decided to try and discover the answer.

“You do remember what he did, don't you?” Athos asked, his breakfast behind him momentarily forgetting. 

Aramis appeared to nod. “He has done a lot of things.”

“Indeed,” Athos confirmed. “And he tried to kill you. You do remember that, don't you? He nearly succeeded in his task as well.”

“I upset him,” Aramis pointed out. “I made him angry.”

“You made him...” Athos gasped and had to reach out for the kitchen side himself to steady his legs. Did Aramis really believe that he was to blame for what had happened? That, somehow, Marsac's actions were justified because he had made him angry? “Aramis, that's not how...” Athos couldn't find the words and was distracted by the smell of burning egg coming from behind him. So he turned and pulled the pan off the hot stove. “...you're being silly.”

“I'm not!” Aramis snapped angrily and Athos suddenly realised that his words perhaps weren't helpful or even true. Aramis wasn't being 'silly' that had been a stupid thing to say. But Athos was struggling to find the right way to express his thoughts and prayed silently in his head that Porthos could come down and help.

“I'm going to see him,” Aramis insisted stubbornly and Athos turned to look at him again. The man did indeed have a look of determination on his face. “If you don't want to help me I'll go and find him by myself.”

“You can't,” Athos insisted. “You can't see him before his court-date. You're a victim in the trial now...”

Before he had the chance to finish what he was trying to explain Aramis butt in.

“I'm not testifying against him in court!” He looked horrified at the thought of it. Athos quickly realised he was just making everything worse and needed to diffuse the situation. 

“You probably won't have to,” Athos said, stepping over to place the pan into the sink for a moment so he could give Aramis his full attention. “But, even so, it's best you don't see him before then.”

“But that could take months,” Aramis pointed out. “I'm going to see him.”

And Aramis turned to walk out of the kitchen. Athos had no-idea if he meant now or later but he tried to stop the man anyway.

“Aramis,” he said sternly as a warning but Aramis didn't actually leave the house, he just went over to the sofa bed and lay himself down onto it. Athos sighed and started again with his breakfast. Nothing more was said of Marsac when Porthos came down and ate breakfast but Porthos noticed the tension in the room because, as soon as Porthos made sure Aramis was going to be fine for the day and they both left for work, he finally asked about it.

“What happened before I came down?”

“Aramis asked about seeing Frodo then asked if he could see Marsac,” Athos explained, seeing no reason to hide the conversation from Porthos. “I wasn't prepared for him to ask about, perhaps, I didn't deal with the situation very well.”

There was silence in the car as Porthos obviously pondered what Athos had said. Eventually he offered up his thoughts.

“I suppose it's to be expected. Their relationship is fucked up but Aramis does believe that they're in love.”

“They're not in love,” Athos tutted. “Marsac used him and Aramis didn't understand any different.”

“Well I know that, but Aramis doesn't. Aramis doesn't know what a good relationship is. To him, Marsac took care of him. Remember, love, even you're still learning what a healthy, loving relationship is.”

“That's true,” Athos muttered. He couldn't deny that one. His marriage was the only long-term relationship he had ever had before Porthos and it had been so messed up that he wasn't even sure what love was for a long time after that. “Then I hope Aramis will find someone as patient and kind as you who can teach him one day.”

“Well, actually...that's kinda what I wanted to talk to you about,” Porthos began and those simple words made panic bubble up inside Athos. He knew that Porthos liked Aramis, he could see it. He knew that Porthos wanted to help Aramis, he knew that as well. But he had no-idea what it meant, what any of it meant. He had no-idea what the need he felt to be there for Aramis, to care for Aramis, to make Aramis discover what it was to love again meant either. But he did know that he wasn't remotely prepared to this conversation either and he didn't want to deal with it. He quickly tried to come up with something else to say, something to steer the subject away from having the conversation he wasn't ready for.

“I'll see if Ninon is around today,” he suddenly suggested. “She might be-able to advise us if allowing Aramis to see Marsac is a good thing or not.”

Porthos paused before saying, “That's a good idea. But, Athos, we need to talk.”

No, not talk, not yet, Athos thought and continued his valiant attempt to changing the subject. “I haven't seen her for a long time. It'll be nice to see her again actually.”

Porthos sighed and Athos turned to see Porthos rest his head back on the head-board of the car-seat obviously in frustration.

“You don't want to talk. It's okay,” Porthos said, obviously attempting to be understanding and Athos felt his body relax. Crisis over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Ninon will sort him out!]


	10. The Counselling Session

Athos liked being at work and they had a new case; a university student called Emilie had gone missing. She wasn't the type to run away and there were rumours about her relationship with one of her married lecturers who had also not been seen for a couple of days. The only reason the Special Investigation Team had been given the case was because the lecturer also happened to be the brother of a well known political figure so things had to be dealt with sensitively. 

Athos was talking to d'Artagnan, explaining how they could get Emilie's mobile phone company to give them GPS co-ordinates of her recent movements, when he remembered about his desire to visit Ninon. So he got d'Artagnan to call the phone company as he sent Ninon a quick email to see if she was available at some point. Treville had all but ordered Athos to see Ninon, the police station counsellor, during his divorce when he had been drinking heavily. Although he had been more than reluctant to talk to someone at first, he eventually found his weekly visits to Ninon useful. Or at least the regularity of them proved to be helpful in a time when his world was in chaos.

“Athos,” Ninon said, looking pleased to see him when he turned up mid-afternoon like she had suggested. She opened up the door of her office and warmly invited him in. “It has been a long-time.”

It had been but walking back into the room gave Athos a sense of contented familiarity because nothing in the room had changed; the chairs were still the same, the bookshelves were still there and she still had a love of purple plants. 

“Take a seat,” she encouraged, shutting the door behind him and moving to sit in one of the chairs with the high backs. Athos sat down in the chair he always used to sit in and reached forward to move the tissue box which was sitting on the table at a funny angle as he knew it would drive him mad if he didn't move it. Ninon smiled at his action and then directed her smile at him.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Yes,” he insisted. “I'm not here about me. I need some advice.”

“Of course.” She crossed her legs and placed her hands down on her lap. Ninon was a very beautiful woman and Athos had developed quite a soft-spot for her during their sessions but she was his counsellor and he was her client, so nothing had ever come of his feelings.

Athos wasn't entirely sure where to start with it all so he attempted to give Ninon the short version of the past few weeks. He told her about Aramis being their informant and what had happened with Marsac. He told her that Aramis was currently staying with them until he found his feet and that Aramis wanted to see Marsac. Once he had finished his story Ninon didn't speak. Athos assumed it was probably because he hadn't asked the question yet.

“Do you think allowing Aramis to see Marsac is wise?”

“Do you think it's wise?” she asked which made Athos snort.

“Don't do your counselling thing on me,” he teased. “I really am looking for some advice here. I don't want to allow it to happen if it's only going to hurt Aramis.”

“Yes it'll hurt, Aramis, don't you think? Seeing the person you love locked up because you put them there. Of course it's going to hurt him.”

Athos paused and sat back in the seat. She was right, it would upset Aramis. It would probably make Aramis feel even more guilty than he already seemed to. “So you don't think it's a good idea then?”

“Oh no, I think it's a very good idea.”

Athos looked at her confused. “So...let him see Marsac even though it'll hurt him?”

“Yes,” was the brief but certain reply.

“I don't understand,” Athos admitted. “Why allow him to do something that will upset him?”

“What do you think will happen if you don't let him see Marsac?” Ninon asked and, whilst Athos was well aware of the counselling game she was playing, he decided to go along with it for the time-being and actually gave her question some serious thought.

“He will...not get any closure?” Athos suggested.

“Indeed,” Ninon said with a smile as if she was pleased Athos was actually properly thinking about it. “How long have they known each other?”

“Years,” Athos told her. “Since Aramis was sixteen or seventeen. For Aramis' entire adult life Marsac has been a part of it.”

“Then you really need to let Aramis see Marsac,” Ninon pointed out but those words concerned Athos.

“What if he doesn't want closure? What if he wants to see Marsac because he can't let go? The relationship was very controlling and manipulative.”

“Do you know what Aramis wants from the meeting?”

Athos paused before admitting, “No.”

“Then why don't you ask him?” When Athos didn't respond, because he was feeling a little embarrassed about the fact he had no-idea what Aramis thought about any of this, Ninon continued. “Are you afraid of the answer?”

“Yes,” Athos eventually offered as an honest response. “If I knew Aramis wanted to confront the person who almost killed him I would be more inclined to agree to the meeting but, as it is, I worry that Aramis wants to see Marsac because Marsac still has hold over him.”

“He does still have hold over him,” Ninon pointed out, quite certain about the fact. “And he will do for a long-time but that will change. If Marsac does go to jail for a long-time and Aramis can move on with his life that will change but, for now, Aramis wants to see Marsac and what do you think will happen if you refuse his request?”

“He'll go behind my back and figure out a way to see Marsac anyway?”

Ninon shrugged, not giving a proper reply but, once again, coming back with another question. “And which would you prefer? You being there? Or him doing it alone?”

Athos sighed and ran his hand over the beard which was due another trim. “I would rather be there.”

“Then that's the answer to your question,” Ninon pointed out and then smiled again. “And how are you doing?”

“I'm not here to talk about me,” Athos pointed out, his defences going up automatically. 

“I know,” she chuckled warmly. “But please indulge me anyway.”

“I...” Athos paused to think and ask himself how was he doing? Quite well considering. “...I've been sober for a long time now. My OCD is still a problem but I have more control over it now. I still have rituals and things I do to calm my anxiety but it's not stopping me from living a relatively normal life.”

“It pleases me to hear that. And how are things with Porthos?”

Athos was startled for a moment before remembering that his relationship with Porthos did start just before he finished his counselling sessions, so Ninon did know.

“They are still going well. We live together now,” he informed her. She had a duty of care which didn't allow her to pass any information on after all so he knew that it was safe to tell her.

“That's very exciting news,” Ninon said and was still smiling. Athos suspected that he had been one of her most challenging clients so she was probably smiling out of relief. “And you're happy living with him?”

“Yes,” Athos immediately said, not even hesitating in his answer although he did hesitate slightly before adding. “...although Aramis has complicated things.”

“In what way?”

Athos growled a little, he knew what she was doing but he couldn't deny the fact he really wanted to talk to her about it. It was only Ninon and Constance who he had ever been-able to open up with, so perhaps he should take the opportunity whilst he had it to clear his mind of some of the confusion which had entered it since Aramis had come into their lives. Anyway, she couldn't tell anyone.

“Porthos and I are both quite fond of him,” he told her and then waited for her reaction, feeling somewhat nervous.

“Fond of him?” she repeated with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes. We...well...have become attached to him. But it won't matter, because soon he will be leaving.”

“To go where?”

“Well, I don't know yet,” Athos admitted. “Somewhere. He can't live with us.”

“You don't want him to live with you?”

“He can't live with us,” Athos pointed out. “He's our informant.”

“Not anymore,” Ninon said with a slight shrug. “The case is over, isn't it?”

“Not until it goes to court and Marsac is tried and convicted.” 

“Ah,” Ninon seemed to understand. “So Aramis can't stay with you for legal reasons?”

“Well...no...I mean technically I don't think we're doing anything illegal as Aramis won't be testifying.”

“But you don't want him to stay with you?”

“No,” Athos said, quite firmly. That wasn't a good idea at all. It was difficult enough living with one person and learning how to compromise. Two would be...and Aramis was...

“Why not?”

Athos looked over at Ninon, not having realised that he had been staring out of the window as he thought. He was surprised by her question because he thought he had already answered it but, had he?

“Because...it...complicates things,” he pointed out.

“Because you're both fond of him?” 

“No...I...” Ninon was confusing Athos. He knew she was playing a clever counselling game but he found himself going along with it. “Well yes I suppose so.”

“Is he fond of you?”

Athos thought about it and realised he had no-idea. Aramis had kissed him that one time in the brothel but Aramis had sex with lots of men, so the kiss probably didn't mean anything. Aramis seemed to like them both, Athos was certain about that, but he had no-idea how he actually felt about them. So Athos gave Ninon a shrug.

“It sounds like you don't talk to Aramis very much about how he feels about things.”

Athos snorted his amusement. “I don't talk to a lot of people about how they feel about things. I leave that to Porthos.”

“You could try?” Ninon suggested. “Or is the very idea terrifying to you?”

“It's very terrifying,” Athos noted although he was only half being serious. “I could try though.”

“I can't imagine what Aramis has been though, can you? I'm sure he'll really appreciate someone listening to him.”

Athos nodded, Aramis probably would.

“And,” Ninon continued. “I could take him on as a private client if you think he needs some professional help. Talk to him about that as well and get back to me.”

Athos nodded again. “Thank you,” he said and stood up from the chair. 

“And,” she continued as she watched him move, “you can also come back and see me whenever you like if you need to talk about this further,” she pointed out with a smile. Athos appreciated it, even though he felt it unlikely that he'd take her up on the offer.

When he was back in the office, before he lost his courage, he went straight over to Porthos who was perched on Constance's desk and talking to her.

“Porthos,” he said, interrupting for a moment. “I'm sorry for earlier. We should talk. Might I suggest we do so on the drive to visit Emilie's best-friend?”

Porthos looked surprised but nodded and smiled. On the drive they did talk, or at least Athos made a valiant attempt at it.

“You wanted to speak to me earlier and I wasn't listening,” he said as Porthos drove. “What did you want to say?”

Porthos chuckled. “You went to see Ninon, didn't you?” he asked but, before Athos could even answer, Porthos quickly spoke again, as if afraid Athos would change his mind. “I wanna talk to you about Aramis and I need you to pause and think about it before you respond, alright?”

Athos nodded his promise. “Okay.”

Porthos sighed as he stopped at the junction, not speaking for a moment as he concentrated on the road. He only spoke again once the car began to move once more. “I think he should stay with us for a while. I don't think it'll be good for him sending him off somewhere unfamiliar with people he doesn't know. He needs stability for a while and he can have that with us. I know it's not ideal because we don't know what people are saying about him on the streets but I can find that part out. And I'm not thinking forever, just maybe for a couple of months or a few months, depending how long he needs. What do you think?”

It hadn't actually been the conversation Athos had been expecting so the answers he had mentally prepared in his head suddenly seemed unhelpful. He had wrongly assumed that Porthos had been planning to admit to Athos that he was fond of Aramis, but this was a different conversation. In fact Athos floundered for a response at first but then he actually did think about it, like Porthos had asked, and decided that Porthos' suggestion was logical and would be the best thing for Aramis.

“That sounds very sensible,” Athos pointed out. “I agree. He does need something stable for a while.”

“So you don't mind?” Porthos asked, needing extra clarification. 

“No,” Athos admitted and began to wonder why the very thought of Aramis staying for longer wasn't panicking him but, instead, it made him feel excited. Was that appropriate? Should he be feeling that way? “I don't mind.”

“But we must tell him about your OCD, love. Otherwise things are going to get difficult. He'll understand.”

“I'll tell him,” Athos promised. “When the time is right.”

Being on a more open road, Porthos was able to turn and look at Athos for a moment. “You do want to do this, don't you? I'm not forcing you into this?”

“You aren't forcing me into anything,” Athos promised, as Porthos turned his attention back to his driving. “I care about Aramis as well,” he admitted.

“I know you do,” Porthos said with a smile. Athos was pleased that he had made Porthos happy. In fact, whilst they were talking, Athos decided to say even more. 

“Ninon suggested that we talk to Aramis about how he's feeling and I must admit it's probably a sensible idea. He threw me this morning asking to see Marsac because I don't understand why he'd want to. I think it's important we understand what's going on in his head.”

Porthos was quite for a while and wiggled in his seat for a moment. When Athos turned to see what Porthos was doing he noticed that the smile on his face had grown into a full-blown grin.

“You should go and see Ninon more often,” Porthos eventually teased. “She's good for you.”

Athos rolled his eyes but secretly smiled to himself. He liked it when Porthos was proud of him.

Emilie's nineteen year old friend was the sort of young person Athos despised; rude and obnoxious. The fifth time she tutted and rolled her eyes at him, he almost lost his temper with her but Porthos stepped in and attempted to calmly point out that they just wanted to know that Emilie was safe and that Emilie wasn't in trouble. Still, they got no-where, although Athos was now convinced more than ever that the missing photography lecturer was involved. 

They went back to the station and began to investigate more about the lecturer, gathering a list of his family and friends to speak to but, as the evening drew in, Athos began to worry that they had left Aramis on his own for too long.

“Best we talk to all these people in the morning anyway,” Porthos said as he pushed his chair away from his desk after Athos brought up the subject of Aramis. “We'll start with his work colleagues then his wife...not looking forward to that conversation.”

Neither was Athos but, for the moment, they had other matters to attend to; they had to reunite a man with his dog. When they got back to the house Aramis almost jumped at them as soon as they both came in. Athos did ponder if he was excited to see them before assuming it was probably more to do with the promise they had made to him.

“How was your day?” he asked, to be polite and begin the whole 'talk to Aramis about how he feels' process.

“Boring,” Aramis informed him but clearly wasn't interested in talking about his day because he promptly added, “Do we still have time to see Frodo?”

They did and Athos wasn't entirely sure who was more excited to see the other. Aramis was lovingly wrestled to the ground by a dog that was covering his face in licks. Athos did squirm uncomfortably at the sight, imagining that the dog had probably only be licking his own testicles a few moments before. Still, Aramis didn't seem to mind and it was nice to see Aramis happy. In fact Aramis remained on the carpet with Frodo as Constance served them all cake.

Athos felt bad Aramis when Porthos looked at the clock an hour later and suggested that they leave Constance in peace it was getting late. Athos felt even worse when Aramis added...

“Yes we shouldn't stay much longer in case Athos' allergies kick off.”

Athos could see in Aramis' face that it was killing him leaving his beloved friend behind but Aramis seemed to like Constance at least and she patiently listened to him as he told her all about what Frodo liked and didn't like.

“He is being well-loved,” she assured him with a chuckle, reaching out to squeeze Aramis' arm. “He was even lucky enough to share my house-mate's bed with her the other night because she forgot to shut her door.”

Aramis gave Frodo a final hug and then seemed very quiet on the journey home. Athos decided that it was, perhaps, a good time to do what Ninon suggested and talk to the man.

“Aramis, you can see Marsac, if that's what you really want?”

There was silence in the back of the car for a while but Athos waited patiently until Aramis responded.

“I do want it.”

“May I ask why?” Athos asked, glancing over at Porthos just to check he was doing the right thing. Porthos was looking serious as he drove so Athos wasn't entirely sure but he had asked now.

“Because...” Aramis seemed to pause again but he eventually said... “...I need to apologise to him.”

“Apologise?!” Athos snapped a little louder than he had intended as he turned in the car-seat to look back at the man. “Please don't tell me you still think that everything is your fault.”

Aramis looked at Athos and seemed to study him for a moment before a frown appeared on his face. “He's going to go to jail because of me. I know it's the right thing, but that doesn't mean I don't feel bad for it. Marsac has always taken care of me.”

“He tried to kill you!” Athos pointed out but then felt a warm hand on his leg, Porthos was giving it a squeeze.

“Aramis,” Porthos said calmly. “Marsac is going to jail because of the choices he made in his own life. None of that is your fault.”

“You don't understand,” Aramis mumbled and turned to look out of the window.

“Try us,” Athos twisted back to sat back properly in his own seat. This talking thing was difficult, Ninon was wrong to make him do it.

“It's like...oh I don't know...say you have a little sister who is taking drugs. And she starts doing bad things to fund that habit. You try to stop her and help her but her problems are just beyond what you can deal with. So you have her arrested so she'll be forced to stop and go cold-turkey. You know you've done the right thing but you still need to say sorry to her because you betrayed her.”

Athos thought about it for a moment and only saw one flaw in Aramis' comparison.

“I doubt my little sister would try to murder me though.”

Porthos sighed which made Athos suspect that perhaps he had said the wrong thing. He decided to stop talking for the rest of the journey which thankfully wasn't too long. Aramis just got out of the car silently once they were there and waited for them to let him in. Once inside he promptly walked towards the sofa-bed so they gave him space and didn't follow.

When Athos looked at Porthos, Porthos had a raised eyebrow expression which could have meant many things. Porthos only explained his thoughts once they were both alone in their bedroom.

“I know things are more black and white to you,” Porthos said as he sat on the bed and began to pull off his clothes. “There are rules, boundaries, regulations, rituals and things have to fit into some sort of order. That's how you can cope with the crazy world we all live in. I get that, love, I really do. But not everyone else lives like that. Marsac did almost kill Aramis but that doesn't mean that Aramis will just automatically be angry at him and stop caring about him immediately.”

“But he should...” Athos intervened as he hung up his work-tie.

“Yes he should,” Porthos agreed. “But emotions don't work that way. Aramis has known Marsac since he was teenager. We, on the outside, can see how messed-up the relationship was but Aramis was on the inside of it so he can't see that. Everyone has used and abused him. In some ways...I guess Marsac was one of the nicest people he'd ever met.”

“That's...” Athos thought about what word he wanted to use. Absurd was the first which came to his mind but then he changed it. “...sad.”

“Yes,” Porthos said, standing up to put his dirty clothes into the basket. “It is sad. This is why we need to be patient with him. Show him what love without expectations is. That's the only way he'll learn just how bad Marsac was. Remember when you were so messed up and confused when things between you and Anne went wrong? That's where Aramis is right now. If anything he's at the very beginning of that journey.”

Athos watched as Porthos climbed into bed in his underwear and realised that Porthos was right. Athos also hadn't been-able to just dislike Anne straight away and move on quickly. It had taken him a long time, an awful lot of alcohol and he still wasn't completely over her. When Athos stopped thinking he realised Porthos was lying there with his arms stretched out, clearly wanting a hug.

“Athos,” he called when Athos didn't move. Athos wasn't sure why he wasn't moving but he shook his head and got his brain back into gear.

“I need to...wash and brush my teeth first,” he pointed out. He could never go into bed without doing such things. Porthos sighed and lowered his arms.

“You should brush your teeth as well,” Athos pointed out as he disappeared into the hallway to go into the bathroom. He ignored the groan which came from the bedroom behind himself and jumped when he walked into Aramis outside.

“Oh, sorry,” Aramis said as he was leaving the bathroom.

“It's fine, you can use the bathroom,” Athos said which got a small smile from Aramis before Aramis side-stepped around him and continued to walk to the stairs but then he paused at the top step and turned back to Athos.

“What did Marsac say when you arrested him?” Was the question which came out of the blue.

“What did Marsac say?” Athos repeated to give his brain a chance to catch up with the question. Aramis nodded so Athos thought about it and answered honestly. “He was sorry. He said that he didn't want to kill you and he was just angry.”

Aramis lowered his gaze to stare down at the carpet for a moment but then he eventually lifted his head back up. “But he did nearly kill me...didn't he?”

Athos nodded slowly, relieved that Aramis was finally remembering what had happened to him. “Yes, he did. You were barely breathing when we found you.”

“Then I'm glad you came to find me,” Aramis said quickly then suddenly came towards Athos and, before Athos had full comprehension of what was going on, Aramis leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Athos' stomach. Athos stood there with his own arms sticking up in the air but then, as he was squeezed, he slowly lowered his arms and wrapped them around Aramis, holding him tightly. He even allowed his chin to nuzzle against Aramis' shoulder, catching the scent of his hair. And Athos continued to hold him tightly until Aramis moved and pulled away. His cheeks were slightly flushed red. 

“Thank you,” he said and then turned and headed back towards the stairs. 

“Aramis!” Athos suddenly found himself yelling. This was it, this was his chance to finally apologise. Only, when he opened his mouth to say it, nothing would come out and Aramis looking back at him waiting just made him nervous. He was concerned that, if Aramis knew what he had done... “Doesn't matter.”

Aramis looked confused but then offered another small smile before heading down the stairs. Athos, feeling like a complete failure for not even having the balls to apologise, went into the bathroom. When he had finished and was back in the bedroom Porthos was still awake. As soon as Athos got into bed, Porthos seemed very awake and he pulled Athos on top of him with a smile Athos could only just see in the darkness of the room.

“Hello, handsome,” Porthos said and reached up, cupping the back of Athos' head with his big hand he pulled Athos down for a kiss. Only Athos squirmed and pulled his head back and away, he could smell coffee and cake on Porthos' breath.

“You haven't brushed your teeth,” he pointed out which caused his boyfriend to sigh. Porthos gently pushed Athos off his warm body and threw back the duvet.

“Oh for fucks sake,” he mumbled but then chuckled as he darted out for the bedroom to quickly race down the hallway. Porthos brushed his teeth in super quick time because soon he was back in bed and crawling over Athos again, smelling like toothpaste. Athos smiled at him and it wasn't long until they were both under the duvet and naked. Porthos was grinding his body up against Athos' and Athos, already ridiculously aroused, was doing the same in return. Porthos was heaven; soft, warm, wonderful heaven. Porthos knew which parts to stroke, which parts to fondle and, more importantly, which parts to kiss which made Athos sigh with delight. In fact Athos soon found himself propped up against the pillows as Porthos spread a trail of kisses along his naked hip-bone. 

“I love you,” Porthos said as he moved from Athos' hip to press a kiss against his stomach, then his chest and then back up to his face. 

“I...” Athos paused, realising he was about to say the wrong thing he changed his words. “I love you too.”

It had clearly been the correct response because it made Porthos grin. Athos assumed that Porthos was pleased that his romance lessons were working. Soon Athos was being tugged down away from the pillows where he found himself underneath a large and incredibly excited body. Athos laughed at Porthos' eagerness.

“God I love hearing you laugh,” Porthos whispered. “I think it's my favourite noise in the world.” Now he was kissing Athos' neck, sucking at the skin he found there. Athos wrapped his arms around Porthos' chest and bent his knee so he could push his hips up and find some friction for his swelling erection.

“Porthos...” Athos groaned with delight and desire. Then he pulled his arms away from the warm body only to push at Porthos' broad shoulders. All of the teasing was driving him mad. Porthos allowed Athos to push him over and soon he was on his back with Athos gingerly climbing on top of him. He straddled Porthos and promptly rubbed their erections together, his hand going down to wrap his fingers around them both to hold them tightly as he began to rock his hips.

“Oh fuck,” Porthos whimpered and then arched his back and closed his eyes. Athos didn't close his eyes, he stared down at Porthos, his sight had adjusted to the darkness now and he could make out every beautiful expression on his boyfriend's face. He sped up his fist until Porthos' hissed a swear word then bit down onto his bottom lip. Then Athos knew he was doing a good job but that was also when a noise came from downstairs. Porthos immediately opened his eyes and Athos stopped his hand.

“Was that the front door?” Porthos asked and Athos wasn't sure so he didn't respond. “Did he go out?” Porthos whispered loudly but Athos once again didn't know the answer the question. But Porthos was obviously preoccupied by the noise and reached up to hold onto Athos' arms to still him. 

“Sorry, love, just gonna check.”

Porthos gently pushed Athos off and Athos, taking the hint, lifted his leg to get off Porthos' lap. He remained kneeling on the bed naked as Porthos climbed off and reached for a dressing-gown on the back of the door, ready to investigate. Porthos didn't even look back when he walked out of the room and left the bedroom door wide open. Athos, finding himself alone in the dark room which now felt an awful lot colder, just sighed with disappointed. He attempted to tug on the duvet to cover himself but, before he had managed it, Porthos re-appeared in the doorway.

“He's bloody gone! Where would he go at 11'o'clock at night?!”

Athos' stomach did something funny on hearing the news but he could see the panic in Porthos' eyes so decided to try and remain calm about the situation.

“He's a grown man and he's not our prisoner. He can go out if he wants to,” Athos pointed out. 

“But where would he go?!” 

Athos offered a shrug. “To see a friend? I'm sure he does have them.”

“Not any good ones and it might be dangerous for him out there. Should we go and look for him?”

“Best not,” Athos suggested. “Where would we look? He'll probably come back here long before we find him out there. He can't go and Marsac this time of the night. Perhaps he just wanted to go for a walk.”

“Yeah to a fucking street corner!” Porthos pointed out, he was frowning now but he dropped his dressing-gown to the floor and crawled back into bed. Athos felt uncomfortable knowing that the dressing-gown just had been flung to the floor but he tried his best to ignore it. 

“I'm worried. He doesn't seem to understand the concept of danger.”

“You do him a disservice,” Athos said as he moved to give Porthos some space. “He's probably far more street-wise than the two of us put together. He'll be fine.”

Porthos nodded and got settled underneath the covers. Athos had a feeling that Porthos was now too distracted to continue their earlier fun. Athos was also very distracted, by the dressing-gown. He couldn't stop thinking about it so he got out of bed to hang it up.

“Sorry,” Porthos said, watching him.

“It's okay,” Athos reassured his boyfriend and, when they were both back in bed together, they snuggled down and held each other. Athos suspected that Porthos wouldn't sleep until Aramis was back home safe and sound and Athos knew that he wouldn't either.


	11. The Prison Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Sorry for the lateness of this chapter, I moved house a couple of weeks ago and I'm currently still without the internet because heaven knows nothing is ever simple with BT. But, on the plus side, it means I've been less distracted so I managed to write more of this story!]

Both Athos and Porthos tossed and turned for a couple of hours but neither of them managed to sleep. Athos found himself listening to every noise coming from outside the house, wondering when Aramis would return, worried that perhaps he never would. 

However, at some point in the early hours of the morning when Athos had eventually begun to doze off out of sheer exhaustion, the doorbell rang. Athos' heart sank. As an ex-uniform cop he knew what a doorbell in the middle of the night meant...only that made no sense as no-one even knew Aramis was living with them and, thinking about it, they'd never given Aramis a key. A fact that, perhaps, Aramis had forgotten about as well. It was Porthos who got out of bed first, swinging out of the bed he flung on some underwear and his dressing-gown before darting out of the room.

Athos got out of bed as well but, being slightly less body confident than his boyfriend, he needed to find some proper clothes to put on first. He grabbed his old but loyal blue police academy track-suit bottoms and a clean t-shirt from the drawer. Once he had slipped them on, he went out into the hallway and could already hear Porthos talking to Aramis downstairs. So Athos went down and found Aramis sitting on the sofa-bed, pulling off his black boots.

“I didn't realise I had to tell you,” Aramis was saying, not looking up at Porthos who was looming over him.

“Course you bloody do! We need to know where you are. What if something happens to you and we don't know where you are? We don't know what people are saying about you out there, Aramis, it's not worth the risk of going out by yourself.”

Aramis didn't respond but he did briefly glanced up at Athos when he saw Athos enter the room, only for his attention to turn back to unlacing his boots which surprised Athos as the boots always appeared to be loose and unlaced in the first place, perhaps it was a fashion statement Athos was unaware of.

“Where were you?” Porthos asked, not doing a very good job of staying calm. “Why would you want to go out this time of the night anyway?”

“No reason,” Aramis mumbled and, once his boots were off, he got up to carry them back out into the hallway. Walking past Athos he peered around the door and just threw his boots down onto the carpet. Immediately Athos crossed-paths with him to sort the boots out. The shoes and boots needed to be in a line and in a certain order, although Aramis wouldn't know about that. But Athos placed Aramis' boots at the end of the row with the backs to the wall, lined-up as straight as possible.

“Well you obviously had a reason,” he heard Porthos say from back inside the room as he rejoined them. Aramis was back on the bed now looking up at Porthos.

“I had to go and do something.”

“What did you have to go and do?” Athos asked, walking closer towards them both. Whilst he realised that Aramis deserved his privacy he couldn't help but be curious.

“Well...” Aramis dropped his head and stared down at his lap, then he tilted to the side. “...you've both been so nice to me so I wanted to...” he reached underneath his backside and shoved his hand into the back pocket of his jeans. When he pulled his hand out, he was holding some Euro notes. “...thank you. I wanted to at least give you a bit of money towards the food and bills whilst I'm staying here. This isn't much but I'll get more.”

He held out the money to Porthos but Porthos just stared down at it, refusing to take it. Athos felt the same. Had Aramis...

“How did you get that?” Porthos instantly asked.

“It's my money, I worked for it,” Aramis insisted, his arm still out.

It was then that Porthos reached forward and snatched the notes out of Aramis' hand. He clenched his fist around them. “You just went out onto the streets and got this?”

Aramis nodded.

“What were you thinking?!” Porthos yelled and threw the money to the floor, the notes spilling out and floating down to the carpet. 

Aramis jumped at the rare show of anger from Porthos and Athos sighed, reaching up he rubbed the side of his forehead. He didn't know what to say but but Porthos had plenty of words.

“I told you you'd never have to do that ever again! Why did you do it? We don't need this money, Aramis. Why did you go out onto the streets?” 

Porthos turned away and paced across the room, obviously trying to calm himself down. Aramis watched Porthos storm off and stuttered a little.

“I...I w-wanted to thank you. I don't want to live here for nothing.”

“Aramis,” Athos said, coming closer to the man who was looking shocked on the bed. “There was no need. Please don't put yourself into danger like that.”

“Danger?” Aramis asked curiously. “I've been doing it my whole life. I know a street which isn't owned by one pimp, lots of people work there so I can blend in. I got lucky that someone approached me so quickly...”

“Lucky?!” Porthos bellowed from the other side of the living-room, turning around again to face them. “Finding a random stranger who will fuck you for money, you call that lucky?!”

“I don't understand why you're upset!” Aramis insisted and then looked annoyed. He pulled off his socks, threw them to the floor and then twisted on the bed to pull back the covers as if giving a hint that he wanted them to leave. “Anyway I didn't let him fuck me, I gave him a blow-job.”

“Well that makes all the bloody difference,” Porthos mumbled.

“Porthos,” Athos warned, finding it somewhat interesting that he was attempting to be the voice of reason for once. “There's no point in getting angry with Aramis. He thought he was doing the right thing.”

“I'm not angry,” Porthos insisted, reaching up and running his hand over his face before adding. “I'm just...I don't know.”

Everyone seemed to stop talking for a moment so Athos bent down and carefully collected all of the money. The fact it wasn't even very much just made the situation even more heartbreaking. He went over to the bed where Aramis seemed to be avoiding eye-contact with either of them now and sat down onto it beside him. 

“Aramis,” he said, trying to sound friendly. “This is your money, you keep it. We honestly don't need it.”

Aramis, meaning to or not, seemed to slide closer to Athos. He appeared to think about it for a moment before he reached out and took the money. 

“I just wanted to thank you. Do you want to have sex with me instead?”

“No!” Athos answered immediately, shocked at the offer which seemingly came out of the blue. “You don't have to do anything to thank us,” Athos pointed out, still slightly flustered by Aramis' behaviour. “We were the ones who put you into danger in the first place. Everything which has happened to you...it was our fault.”

Aramis snorted and looked across at Athos with a small smile on his face. “That's not true. You were just doing your job. I decided to help you. It was my fault, not yours.”

“No, Aramis, you don't understand...” Athos began and rubbed his hands together anxiously knowing that this was his chance, he could finally admit to Aramis what he had done. Only Aramis spoke before he was able to. 

“I'm sorry, I just wanted to help, I didn't think it would make you both mad at me.”

Then, before Athos could confess, Porthos came over and immediately fell onto his knees in front of Aramis. He reached out and grabbed Aramis' hands, squeezing them both in his own. 

“I'm not mad, not in the way you think. Aramis, when I said you'd never have to sell your body ever again, I meant that. I don't want you doing this anymore.”

Aramis looked down at him. “But it's what I do and I'm good at it. I could show you?”

Porthos shook his head slowly. “No, you don't need to show us and it's not what you do anymore.” He reached up and stroked some of Aramis' curls behind his ear. Athos watched the tender action which was making him feel strange, tingly but not in the unpleasant way his OCD made him tingle. It was a nice tingle, a warm tingle. And when Porthos cupped the side of Aramis' face and Aramis leaned forward Athos wasn't sure what was going on. Not until he saw Aramis close his eyes and witnessed their lips coming together. Porthos tilted his head to the side and Athos watched as they kissed. It was a soft gentle kiss, their lips moved ever so slowly against each others. Athos heard Aramis moan with delight. He watched frozen as his boyfriend kissed another man and found that he rather enjoyed the sight of it.

When their lips parted Aramis slowly smiled and licked his lips. Porthos appeared slightly bashful, lowering his head and muttering under his breath, “We should go back to bed.”

“No, no,” Aramis suddenly said and reached out to grip onto Porthos' dressing-gown. “You can both stay,” he suggested with pleading eyes. “Please,” he whispered and moved forward to get closer to Porthos again but Porthos unclasped the fingers and pushed Aramis' hands away, gently placing a kiss onto both before letting go.

“No, mate, not tonight,” Porthos said, getting up to stand up. “You'll be alright down here and we'll just be upstairs, not far away.”

Aramis was frowning like he was confused. “Why won't you stay? Have I done something wrong again?”

“No, mate,” Porthos quickly said. “Nothing's wrong. We just all need to sleep.”

Athos assumed that was his cue to stand up as well. So Athos did, still somewhat dumbstruck by what had just happened. His legs automatically followed Porthos back upstairs and into the bedroom where Porthos promptly sat down, leaned forward and placed his head in his hands.

“Fuck,” he said to the floor. Athos calmly walked over to the bedside table and turned the light in and off five times until it was on. Then he stared at the bewildered figure of his boyfriend and crawled onto the bed beside him.

“Are you okay?” Athos asked. He felt alright, it was strange but he did. 

“I'm so so sorry,” Porthos then said and sat himself up, twisting around to look at Athos. “I can't believe I just kissed him. How fucked up was that? How selfish am I? To do it right in front of you, kiss another man. I'm so sorry.”

Athos shrugged, “It's fine,” he offered, because it was, it really was.

“It's not fine,” Porthos insisted and moved around to properly face Athos. “I know you say things are fine when they're not. This isn't fine, is it?”

“I don't know,” Athos admitted with a bit of a shrug. “I'm not upset.”

“You're not?” Porthos asked, his eyes full of worry. “I wouldn't blame you if you were.”

Athos shrugged for a second time. “I know you like Aramis. It wasn't shocking to see you kiss him. In fact...” I think I liked it. “...it didn't bother me.” Athos tried to think of something to say which would make Porthos feel better and a thought suddenly occurred to him. “Anyway now we're even. We've both kissed him.” He smiled.

Porthos smiled as well and laughed lightly. “Yeah, I guess we are,” he pointed out but his expression then quickly changed to one of guilt again. “But I shouldn't have done it. I want to prove to him so badly that he can find friendship without having to give his body up. Then I bloody kissed him.”

“But you also refused to share a bed with him,” Athos pointed out. “So you are proving that to him.”

“I want to share a bed with him,” Porthos admitted, reaching up he cupped Athos' face in a way which wasn't dissimilar to the way he had with Aramis just moments before. “I wish I didn't but I do. I want to be honest with you about that but also I want to say that my feelings for you haven't changed in the slightest and I love you more than anyone in the world, Athos. So if this makes things complicated for you or if you're not happy with this...I'll end it right now. I'll find somewhere for Aramis to go tomorrow and never mention his name ever again. Be honest with me, love. What are you thinking right now?”

“That I...” What was he thinking? His mind was taken back to the time he had come out of the brothel and told Porthos that he had kissed Aramis and Porthos didn't seem to mind. Porthos wasn't jealous or upset, he had just been curious. Perhaps that's what Athos was feeling at that point. “...I enjoyed seeing you both kiss.”

The honesty must have shocked Porthos slightly because the man lowered his arm and sat there staring at Athos for long enough to make Athos feel embarrassed. Perhaps he shouldn't have been so honest. Although when a smile started to stretch across Porthos' face Athos began to realise that obviously he had said the right thing. But the smile didn't linger, it left Porthos' face when he sighed.

“I just can't stand the thought of other men touching him, paying him, using him. I know he doesn't get that but it makes my blood boil and my skin crawl. But...we can't keep being angry at him. You get angry about him not hating Marsac, I get angry about him selling his body...we're just always angry with him.”

Athos nodded because Porthos had a point. Poor Aramis probably did think that everything he did was always wrong. It clearly wasn't the best way to deal with everything.

“We should just be patient,” Athos agreed. “Ninon seemed to suggest that, the longer Aramis is away from Marsac, the more he'll change and see things differently. It will happen, it'll just take time.”

“Yeah,” Porthos nodded his agreement. “Are you gonna take him to see Marsac still? Do you want me to come?”

Athos shook his head because he didn't want Porthos there. He felt like one of them seeing what could potentially happen would be difficult enough. “You don't need to come but yes, I will take him. It's best that we get it over and done with really.”

Porthos smiled again and leaned forward to kiss Athos on the lips. Athos closed his eyes and kissed Porthos back tenderly. When they pulled away Porthos all but collapsed forward onto the bed. 

“Gonna be knackered in the morning now,” he mumbled with his face against the duvet.

Five hours later Athos went downstairs quietly expecting Aramis to still be fast asleep after their eventful night. Only Aramis wasn't asleep, he was wide awake and kneeling on the carpet before the coffee table. Athos couldn't see what he was doing at first so went into the kitchen area which was when he got a better view. The coffee table which lay between the sofa-bed and the TV, was covered in books. Athos looked in horror then he turned his gaze the bookcase in the living-room and discovered where the books had come from; the bookcase was half empty. Forgetting about breakfast Athos walked back around the breakfast table and went over.

“What are you doing?” he managed to ask even though his heart was racing frantically at the sight of the chaos. 

“Porthos said I could read the books so I'm just having a look at them all.”

Athos turned away from Aramis and immediately marched towards the bookcase. There he leaned forward to look and, much to his horror, Walter Mosley was next to Arthur Conan Doyle, why would Walter Mosely be next to Arthur Conan Doyle?! M and D weren't even close to each other in the alphabet. Aramis had messed them all up.

“No, this isn't right,” Athos said and pulled out Mosley, placing him back on the second shelf where upon he found James Ellroy in the middle of his Steig Larsson trilogy. “What have you done?!” He snapped without meaning to. He pulled Ellroy out.

A small voice from behind him said, “P-Porthos said I could borrow them...” He put Ellroy back on the top-shelf close to Doyle and then spun around to look at the table. It was littered with books in small piles, Aramis had two of them in his hands as he looked up at Athos a little wide-eyed like an animal caught in the head-lights.

“You've messed them up!” Athos barked and stormed over, grabbing a couple of the books from the table he then turned around to place them back onto the bookcase. It was going to take him a while to put them all back but he needed to organise them again right at that very moment. His fingers moved quickly and he shoved books around, trying to put them back into alphabetical order of the author's surname which was how it was meant to be. 

At some point Aramis appeared and was passing him books, keeping very quiet. Athos remained focused and continued until the last book was back on the shelf and then, finally, he could breathe. He took a step-back to study the bookcase. Everything was in its right place again, exactly where they all should be. He felt satisfied. 

“I'm sorry,” came a mumble from beside him somewhere and he realised that he had almost forgotten Aramis was there. He turned and found the man standing close-by with his head lowered, eyes staring guiltily at the floor. “I'm so sorry,” he said again. 

Athos stared at him for a while and started to feel incredibly embarrassed at his own behaviour. All Aramis had wanted to do was look at the books and now Athos had frightened him. But the embarrassment stopped him from speaking and he just stepped past Aramis to move away. He walked into the kitchen, glancing over his shoulder only to see Aramis still standing there with his head lowered. Athos began to feel awful. He pulled out some bread and put it into the toaster and looked over again. Aramis still hadn't moved so Athos knew that he had to say something.

“Aramis, I...I have considered your request and I'll phone up the prison in moment to see if we can visit Marsac today.”

That got Aramis' attention because his head shot right up.

“What? Really? I mean...you mean it?” he asked, taking a tentative step closer to Athos.

“Yes, but don't be disappointed if the prison say no. Sometimes they have strange rules about visitors but hopefully I can use my rank and they'll let us go.”

Aramis nodded and Athos couldn't help but notice how the man suddenly seemed excited, or was it anxious? Aramis turned and went over to his clothes in the black bag beside the sofa-bed and began to go through them as if trying to find something nice to wear. Athos couldn't for the likes of him understand why Aramis would be excited about seeing Marsac. However, when they were in the car, Aramis' excitement wore off and he was suddenly very quiet. Ninon's voice was in Athos' head as he drove, reminding him to keep checking what Aramis was thinking and how Aramis felt. So he attempted to make conversation with the man.

“Are you nervous?” he asked, sensing that much was obvious but he wasn't sure what else to ask.

“A little,” Aramis responded quietly.

“Aramis...” Athos didn't know what to say. There was so much that he wanted to say but he wasn't sure where to start. He wanted to reassure Aramis that Marsac couldn't hurt him anymore and reassure Aramis that, whatever Marsac said, none of it was his fault at all. Only he suspected that all of his words would fall on deaf ears so he ended up saying something very different. “...I'll be right there with you the whole time.”

Aramis nodded and then stared out of the window. It was only when they approached the walls of the prison that Aramis sat up and seemed tense. Athos questioned for the hundredth time what the hell he was doing but they were there now and Aramis wouldn't let him turn back.

When they entered the prison Athos showed his detective badge and explained that he had rung in advance. After a few minutes of waiting they were both led into a small room which had nothing more than a table in the centre and two plastic chairs on either side. 

“Sit down,” Athos suggested to Aramis who couldn't seem to stand still. “They'll bring him in.”

Athos got the nervous man to sit next to him and, within a few short minutes, the door opened. Marsac was walked in by a burly prison guard whose hand was tugging Marsac's arm. Marsac was wearing an orange prison outfit and his wrists were tied together with metal hand-cuffs. He looked half like a dangerous criminal and half like a rich mummy's boy, Athos mused. 

Aramis immediately sat up straight in the chair, in fact he jumped up so much that Athos almost put his hand on Aramis' leg because he was worried that Aramis was about to run over to Marsac but, thankfully, Marsac was promptly shoved unceremoniously into the chair on the other side of the table then then prison guard stepped away and stood in the corner of the room.

It was then that Athos realised how tired Marsac looked. He had large black circles underneath his eyes and his skin was pale. Good, Athos thought cruelly, I'm glad you're not having fun behind bars.

There was an uncomfortable silence between them all for a couple of minutes but Athos remained quiet. This was between Aramis and Marsac, he needed to let them talk. It was Marsac who ended up speaking first as he shifted on the chair and stared at Aramis.

“This is a surprise,” he mumbled with a heavy dose of fake disengagement. 

Aramis, who was still sitting upright and tense, found his voice. “I had to see you. I had to come and apologise.”

Marsac snorted then looked away from Aramis and over to the windows along one of the walls which had closed blinds hiding their meeting from the hallway outside.

“I'm sorry, Marsac,” Aramis then said, leaning forward and placing his arms on the table. “I'm sorry I went to the police. I was worried about you.”

“Worried about me?!” Marsac suddenly yelled, turning back to face his 'favourite'. “I'm in a fucking jail-cell, Aramis. My lawyer says the best I can hope for is twenty years, worst will be life. I will probably spend the next twenty years of my life in jail, Aramis...because of you.”

The final words were said with so much venom that Aramis sank backwards and Athos had to take in a deep breath as he willed himself not to get involved. He was secretly glad that he had come instead of Porthos now, he wouldn't have wanted Porthos to witness this. Athos watched Aramis out of the corner of his eye and noticed that the man was looking down at the table and reaching up to rub the healing bruises on his neck. Yes, remember, Athos silently pleaded. Remember what he did to you, remember what sort of a monster this man is. Please, Aramis.

“I'm...sorry,” was all Aramis whispered though, not able to look at Marsac anymore.

“Sorry?” Marsac snorted. “After everything I did for you. I loved you, Aramis. I looked after you in ways I never did with the others. I let you share my bed. I took care of you. And this is the fucking thanks I get?!”

Marsac was yelling again and Athos desperately wanted to silence him but once again he forced himself to stay quiet. Aramis needed to find his voice. Aramis needed to stand up for himself. Athos was just desperately worried that Aramis never would.

“But it was the drugs..” Aramis began to say softly, still not looking up. “Things were better before you got involved in all that. Why did you do that, Marsac? Things got so messy. The others...you got them all hooked on the stuff. You shouldn't have done that.”

Marsac leaned forward and placed his hand-cuffed arms onto the table, the metal making a loud noise as he did so. 

“But never you, Aramis, never you. I never let you take any drugs. I always protected you, always looked after you,” his big brown eyes suddenly narrowed. “And look what you've done to me. Look at me, Aramis.”

Aramis slowly lifted his gaze until he was looking at his former pimp. Marsac lifted up his wrists to make a show of the hand-cuffs.

“Look what you've done to me.”

“Hey!” Athos yelled before he could stop himself because enough was enough. “You did that to yourself. Aramis didn't get you involved in running brothels or selling drugs. That's why you're locked up, you did it to yourself.”

Marsac glared at Athos for a moment before sitting back in his chair in a huff again.

“We would have arrested you anyway, with or without Aramis,” Athos pointed out in an attempted to make Marsac understand which was probably a futile task. But Marsac just sat there fuming. Athos sighed and turned to Aramis who was clearly on the verge of tears. Athos wanted to hold him and get him out of there but Aramis needed to end it when he wanted to end it.

“I...I know you took care of me and I'm grateful for it,” Aramis said quietly, he was being so vulnerable and honest that Athos was having to hold back tears himself.

“Wish I fucking hadn't,” Marsac muttered, staring at the window again. “Should have left you on the streets with those dirty old men fucking you down the alleyways. Maybe you would have caught something or one of them would have ended your life and done you a fucking favour.”

The words broke Aramis and Athos saw a tear leaking out of his eye and rolling down his cheek and Athos never wanted to hit someone as much as he wanted to hit Marsac in that moment. He was going to say something again but Aramis spoke first.

“You don't mean that,” Aramis muttered. “I know you don't mean that.” Aramis sniffed and lifted up the sleeve of his sweater to wipe the tear off his cheek. Much to Athos' surprise Marsac turned back again and seemed to have calmed down, perhaps it was seeing the tears of his former lover, perhaps it was guilt, whatever it was, Marsac suddenly changed his tune.

“No, I don't mean that. Aramis, I didn't mean that. I love you. You made me angry and you let me down, but dammit I still love you and I know you love me as well. I know you do. And now, whenever you let anyone else touch you, I know you'll think of me. Whenever you let anyone else make love to you, you'll remember my face. Because none of them will ever be me, Aramis. None of them will ever love you like I do.”

It was getting far too messed-up for Athos' liking. He could see what Marsac was doing, he was trying to mess with Aramis' head and he wasn't going to have any of it.

“Aramis, let's go,” he encouraged and gently wrapped his fingers around Aramis' arm, encouraging the man to stand up but Marsac wouldn't stop talking.

“...it'll always be me, Aramis. You first and only love. No-one will ever take care of you in the way I did. They'll all just want you because you're a good lay but they'll never love you. They'll never feel as good as I did, they won't ever kiss you in the same way...”

Athos was grateful that Aramis didn't seem to be protesting at the way he was being pulled out of his seat. Athos just wanted to get him out of the room as quickly as possible. He nodded at the prison guard who moved to open the door for them both. Marsac just turned in his seat and continued to yell at them as they were leaving...

“...you'll always belong to me, Aramis. You'll always belong to me, I want you to remember that! Remember who owns you!”

When Athos pushed Aramis outside before himself, he took a moment to turn back to Marsac. “Enjoy spending the rest of your life in jail,” he said, which finally shut Marsac up. 

Then he reached back for Aramis' arm and didn't let go until they were through all of the locked doors and outside into the bright autumn sunshine. It was only then he finally let go and Aramis promptly sunk to the ground. Athos tried to catch him, but Aramis had already slipped onto the grass beside the prison walls and was sobbing. Athos got down onto the grass next to him and placed an arm around his shoulders in the way Porthos always did. 

“Don't take in anything that he just said,” Athos pleaded. “He was saying all of those things because he knew it would upset you. Don't listen to a word of it, you understand?”

Aramis did nod but he also continued to cry. Athos pulled him closer until Aramis twisted and buried his wet face against Athos' shoulder and Athos just held him until the man stopped shaking and sobbing. Then Athos continued to hold him anyway.


	12. The Police Station

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Still no internet! It's driving me mad but I'll try and update when I can.]

Eventually Aramis made an attempt to move by lifting his head-up slowly; his eyes blood-shot and his cheeks wet with tears. He turned his head to watch a pick-up truck coming into the car-park and Athos decided that perhaps their public display could move somewhere a little more private. 

“Come on,” he said and helped Aramis get to his feet. He even kept a supportive hand on Aramis' back until they were back in the car. Aramis looked so sad that Athos knew he had to try and say something supportive but he was at a complete loss as to what, until he remembered what Ninon had suggested about asking Aramis how he felt about everything.

“That must have been difficult for you,” he pointed out perhaps needlessly but it was his attempt at sympathy.

“Yeah, I've made him really mad.”

“Yes but...” Athos paused for a moment. He knew ranting about Marsac wasn't going to help Aramis so he choose his words carefully. “...remember that Marsac is in jail because of life decisions that Marsac made.”

Aramis nodded. “I know,” he said, which surprised Athos a little; perhaps Aramis did understand after all. “I know he has done bad things. It's just...just hard seeing him like that, hurt and angry, in jail clothes and hand-cuffs. It was horrible.”

Athos knew that it had been horrible for Aramis. He could see the pain in the man's eyes. He turned the car key and decided to get Aramis home. Looking over his shoulder he pulled out from their parking spot and slowly drove away from the prison.

“You have known him for a long time, Aramis. It will be troubling thinking of him being locked up in jail, but it's for the best. You really need to stop thinking about him and began to decide what you want to do with your own life.”

“I have no-idea,” Aramis admitted. “That's why...well, whilst I appreciate Porthos wanting me to be safe and not work anymore, it's what I do. I can't do a normal job like a normal person.”

“Why not?” Athos asked, glancing at Aramis for a moment. He found Aramis' comment a strange one. “Do you not think you're normal?”

“I..I don't know,” Aramis responded. “But I can't do anything else. I've never done anything else.”

“You have people skills,” Athos pointed out, desperately trying to be helpful and get Aramis to see that there was so much more to him than what he seemed to think. “And you're interested in reading. You have various things going for you. You could work in a book-shop or something, you'd love that.”

Aramis gave a dismissive snort as a response so Athos decided to leave the conversation about work for the time-being because there was something else which he should have brought up. “I know a lady called Ninon who really helped me after my divorce. She's a counsellor. She said that she'd be happy to meet you sometime so you can talk to someone.”

“I have people to talk to. I have you and Porthos.”

Athos smiled slightly at the sweetness of the statement. He was pleased that Aramis believed he could confide in them, especially when Athos was well aware at what a bad job they had been doing at listening to Aramis so far. “Yes you do but Porthos and I are useless men sometimes,” he pointed out. “Well I am anyway, he's a lot better. But maybe you'd like to talk to someone about Porthos and I and Marsac and everything. Anyway, it's just an idea. She's really nice so have a think about it and let me know.”

“Okay,” Aramis promised and that was that, Athos didn't speak anymore, he didn't know what else to say and Aramis went quiet as well. After a few minutes Athos turned to check on Aramis only to discover that Aramis had folded his arms across his chest and was resting his head on the window. He seemed to be asleep. Athos wasn't surprised, the poor man must have been emotionally exhausted.

When Athos pulled the car up outside the house, ready to drop Aramis off so he could go to work, he ended up watching Aramis sleep for a while. Aramis didn't look particularly peaceful; he kept on shifting on the seat and scrunching his face up like he was in pain.

“Aramis?” Athos called gently in an attempt to wake the man up. The only thing which happened was that Aramis looked in even more distress, whimpering quietly as he continued to dream. Athos began to worry so he reached out, placed his hand on Aramis' leg and shook it. Aramis suddenly sat bolt up right with a cry, his hand immediately going to his neck. The sudden action made Athos jump and he quickly pulled his arm away. Aramis was clawing at his neck, as if trying to pull something off until he saw Athos staring at him and his fingers stilled before he slowly lowered his hand. He was still wheezing though, trying to catch his breath. Athos assumed he had been having another nightmare and he wished that there was something he could do about it to help Aramis sleep better.

“Are you okay?” he asked because perhaps caring was at least something. Aramis still looked scared, his eyes remained wide for a moment until his heaving chest began to slow.

“Yes, I'm fine, sorry, must have fallen asleep.”

“That's perfectly alright. Let's get you inside, then I need to go to work.”

“Work?” Aramis questioned with a raise of his eyebrow like he had forgotten Athos did such a thing. “Oh right, yeah.”

Aramis' hand went to the car-door but then he seemed to change his mind. He suddenly turned, lurched forward and placed a kiss on Athos' lips. Athos froze in shock, rather like the first time Aramis had kissed him. He remained frozen as the warm lips began to move, trying to prise Athos' own lips apart. Athos found his eyes closing, he was too shocked to push Aramis away and it felt too nice to want to. He opened his mouth a little, tilted his head to the side and kissed Aramis back. Then he felt Aramis' tongue teasingly probing, so he allowed that inside and tasted that as well. 

He heard a rustle of clothes as Aramis moved closer and then a warm hand came down to settle on his leg before moving up his thigh. But Athos concentrated on the mouth which was devouring him, making him moan without meaning to. Aramis was good at kissing, teasing and gentle. It wasn't until the hand was inches from Athos' groin that he suddenly became more aware of it. Even more so when fingers cupped him between the legs. The action felt like a lightening bolt to Athos' brain and he immediately leaned back to escape from the kiss, pulling their mouths apart and gasping.

“No,” he said and looked down at Aramis' hand which was groping him, he reached down for Aramis' wrist and tugged it away.

“Did I do something wrong?” Aramis asked gently and Athos looked up and saw the puzzlement on his face.

“I...I...” What was wrong? Everything, Athos decided. But he didn't want to make Aramis think that he had done anything bad when he really hadn't and it had been Athos' only fault for accepting the kiss and not pushing him away immediately. “I can't...we shouldn't...” His thoughts were muddled making it very difficult to form a comprehensive sentence so he paused, took in a deep breath and tried to push the bubbling anxiety back down as Aramis stared and waited.

“It feels wrong to kiss you without Porthos here,” Athos eventually admitted because it was true, it did. Only the honesty caused further confusion to appear on Aramis' face as he sat himself back in his seat a little and looked down at his lap as if pondering that piece of information. Athos realised that he was still panting and tried to slow down his breathing as they both sat in silence for a while. It was Aramis who eventually spoke, he looked over at Athos and appeared to be slightly happier judging by the small smile which was forming on his lips.

“Yeah that's okay, I get it. That's...you're right, I don't want to cause problems. But, Athos, don't go to work. Please.”

Athos raised an eyebrow. Why didn't Aramis want him go to back to work? Was the kiss bribery to make Athos stay to what...stop Aramis from getting bored? Athos began to wonder if he was being manipulated.

“Let's get inside,” he grumbled, not wanting to have the conversation in the car. He got out and Aramis followed him inside the house where Athos promptly removed his brown shoes, placing them carefully alongside his black pair. Aramis watched and then did the same with his boots, placing them next to Porthos' shoes carefully. Satisfied at least with the order of the shoes, Athos went straight into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Aramis followed but lingered a couple of metres behind. Something was playing on Athos' mind though and he couldn't stop himself from asking.

“Why don't you want me to go to work?” he questioned but didn't look at Aramis directly, he didn't want to make Aramis feel uncomfortable. In fact he made sure that he looked busy fetching two clean mugs and grinding coffee beans.

“Because I got so bored yesterday. I don't like sitting indoors on my own and I like being with you,” Aramis admitted.

Athos nodded to himself, satisfied and yet also disappointed that his suspicions had been correct. “Well, what did you do before? I know you never started work until late afternoon. So what did you use to do with your time?”

There was silence for a moment so Athos did briefly peer over his shoulder only to discover that Aramis was looking around as if he was thinking.

“Umm...well...I used to sleep during the mornings but then, in the afternoon, I was out a lot. I go to see Señora Rosario and her friends at the elderly day centre. I spend time down at the soup kitchen to talk to people and see if there's anything I can do to help. Sometimes I spend time with Mr Mathieu who owns a restaurant. Mr Mathieu is really nice, he often gives me left-overs or make me try new dishes to see if I like them. I found Frodo beside his restaurant actually. Then there are all the nice old ladies at the library who let me go through all the damaged books before they throw them away, that's one of my favourite things to do...”

As Aramis talked Athos found himself pausing in the grinding of coffee beans to turn and stare. Aramis had a whole network of people and friends that he would spend his time with. He wasn't the lonely, abandoned prostitute Athos had assumed. He knew people, he had a life. It was a life of old people and the homeless, left-over food and tatty books but it was a life. It was no wonder he was bored just sitting inside the house all day long. And it also made sense why, when Frodo came along, it made Aramis so happy because suddenly he had a friend at home as well, even if it was a dog. Aramis was obviously a social creature who had been forced to be social in whatever way he could. But there was something that really bothered Athos and he found himself having to ask.

“Aramis, did you kiss me just because you want some company?”

Aramis, having been stopped in his description of his life by the sudden question, paused and stared at Athos. And then he didn't answer. In fact his gaze turned to the kitchen floor as if he suddenly felt uncomfortable which rather confirmed the answer to the question in Athos' mind. He felt disappointed and embarrassed perhaps. He thought that Aramis had kissed him because he liked him but no, Aramis was just using the skills he knew to get something he wanted...company.

“You don't have to answer,” Athos said as the kettle hissed. “But next time...” he continued, hoping his voice wasn't displaying how grumpy he felt about it. “...just ask.”

“Okay,” Aramis responded sheepishly. “I didn't think you'd stay if I just asked. I like being with you and...”

So you try to have sex with me instead?! Athos yelled inside his head then shook the coffee into the mugs slightly more dramatically than he should have.

“I can't stay, I have to work,” Athos pointed out abruptly, no longer able to hide his hurt. Why was it so painful to discover that Aramis had only kissed him because he didn't want to be on his own? 

“Then what do you want me to do?” Aramis asked, his voice sounding louder which implied that, unbeknownst to Athos, he had obviously moved closer. “Porthos doesn't want me to leave the house without you. He says it's dangerous. So do I have to stay inside all the time? Until when?”

Athos sighed and tried to remind himself that none of this was Aramis' fault. He also then realised that, perhaps, they had both done a bad job of explaining the situation to the man. After pouring in the hot water and milk, he stirred both of the coffees and turned to hold one out to Aramis. Aramis took it, looking forlorn. When Athos picked up his own mug he held it in his hands to warm his fingers as he leaned back against the kitchen counter.

“We don't know what people are saying on the streets about you. Marsac was a well-known figure. If people know that you helped the police, it could be dangerous for you to be out there. People may think you're a snitch and people don't like snitches.”

“I know that,” Aramis said. “But Marsac won't let anyone hurt me.”

“Marsac is in jail,” Aramis pointed out.

“Yeah but even so, people are scared of Marsac, in jail or not. They'll still know if they hurt me he'll find out.”

“Maybe they'll think he doesn't care about you now, since you helped the police...” Athos tried to explain but he was cut-off but Aramis.

“Once this john hit me. He got a bit carried away and smacked me around the face so hard it made my nose exploded. I mean there was blood everywhere. I stagger downstairs, blood all over the place and Nashiko called Marsac. Marsac didn't come round, he was too busy but, two days later, one of the other guys there told that someone threw that bloke out of a moving car near the Pantheon with a messed up face and two legs broken in like five different places.”

The story horrified Athos. It horrified Athos even more hearing Aramis use it as an explanation of how much Marsac loved him. Perhaps the look of horror was obvious from his face because Aramis' enthusiasm suddenly dwindled and he began to look ashamed.

“I-I mean yeah...that was fucked up...I know. Marsac shouldn't have done that but, what I mean is, people are scared of him. If he knew I was living with you then he would...he would...” Aramis didn't finish the sentence and began to look rather flustered. Athos felt the same. That hadn't even occurred to him before now but, if Marsac found out that Aramis was living with the two cops who brought him down...dear god...the whole conversation was starting to get too much for Athos and he suddenly wished that Porthos was there.

“Come into work with me,” he suddenly said before taking a sip of his hot coffee. It seemed like the obvious answer to everything because he now desperately wanted to see Porthos but he also didn't want to leave Aramis by himself.

Aramis made an 'eh?' noise.

“We'll finish our drinks and head into the station,” Athos said and wasn't going to even give Aramis the chance to ask question the idea or say no. He took his coffee towards the dining-table and sat down to finish it, not speaking anymore. Aramis seemed to get the hint or he was just confused, either way he didn't speak either and soon they were putting their shoes on and driving to the station. 

Only, when they got to the police station, Porthos wasn't even there. He was 'out' according to another detective whose desk was on the opposite side of the open plan office they all shared. 

“Sit there,” Athos ordered Aramis, showing him where Porthos usually sat. Aramis obediently sat down. The man hadn't said a word since entering the police station and Athos could tell he was uncomfortable but Athos didn't have time to worry about Aramis. In fact he suddenly realised that he should have suggested to Aramis that he bring a book. 

Looking around the office and found some national police magazines which he promptly dropped onto Porthos' desk so that Aramis could read those. Athos always found them interesting. Aramis did begin to look at the pile when Captain Treville, who was standing in the doorway of his smaller office, called Athos over.

Athos had a feeling he already knew what Treville wanted from him as he went into Treville's office and closed the door behind himself.

“Is it bring your informant to work day?” Treville asked with not a lot of amusement in his voice as he sat down behind his desk.

“No, sorry, Captain. Things have just gotten a little...complicated.”

Treville said nothing, just raised his eyebrow which Athos knew was code for 'explain'. Athos didn't want to lie to Treville but he knew that they couldn't tell Treville that Aramis was living with them. Treville closed his eyes to the odd thing but he was a man of strong morals and Athos knew not to push him too far.

“We're worried about him,” Athos admitted, deciding that was actually the truth. “I want to find out if people are talking about him on the streets. I don't want him to end up dead because he helped us.”

Treville seemed to think for a moment and eventually nodded. “I agree. He did us a good turn and we should help him.”

Athos was shocked at Treville's response. “Oh well...yes, exactly. So I apologise for bringing him in but...”

Treville cut him off. “Athos, it's fine. I just want to make sure that helping Aramis isn't interfering with...other things. Your new case if your focus. You know that, don't you?”

“Yes,” Athos said quickly and nodded. “That's why I brought Aramis here. So I can work on the new case but know that Aramis is safe.”

Treville still didn't look very amused, in fact he shook his head from side to side a little but then obviously decided to give in this time because he said no more, just shooed Athos out of the office with the wave of his hand. Athos did as he was told, went back outside and noticed that Aramis wasn't in the chair anymore. Frantically looking around Athos soon discovered that Aramis was over at the coffee-machine, pressing one of the buttons then jumping backwards when it began to spew hot-water. Athos marched over.

“What are you doing?” he asked. 

“Making you another coffee,” Aramis pointed out.

“Aramis, just...stay at the desk,” Athos requested, feeling his stress levels already rising.

Aramis peered over Athos' shoulder at the said desks. “I'm not far from the desk. Can't I get you a coffee?”

“I don't want another coffee,” Athos pointed out, he hated the coffee machine at work and the toxic grudge which came out of it.

“Oh,” Aramis suddenly looked disappointed as the cup was finally filled up. 

“You have it,” Athos sighed, he needed to organise something. He needed stationary. So he went back over to his desk, sat himself down and messed up five pens for the sole purpose of rearranging them again. Aramis sheepishly joined him with a plastic cup of coffee and sat back at Porthos' desk opposite. Once the pens were back in line, Athos turned on his computer.

“Athos?” 

Athos glanced up, Aramis was looking over at him.

“Do you want another drink? I could make you a tea?”

“I don't want a tea,” Athos said, turning his attention back to the computer. He opened his outlook and began to pile through his emails.

“Athos?”

Athos sighed without meaning to but didn't even look over this time. “What?”

“I could buy you a baguette? I have that money from last night. We could go and get one.”

“Aramis,” Athos said sternly. “I don't want a baguette, I don't want a tea, I don't want a coffee. I don't want anything.”

Athos couldn't help but notice the disappointed on Aramis' face out of the corner of his eye then Aramis sunk down into the chair. “Oh, okay.”

It was Aramis' reaction which made Athos begin to wonder. Athos often skipped a meal if he was too busy but..."Aramis, are you hungry?”

Aramis didn't do anything for the first few seconds but then he nodded slowly.

“Then go and get yourself something. Go and find the canteen or there's a vending machine in the hall.”

Dear god, the man was distracting but he couldn't stop himself from watching as Aramis glanced over his shoulder then turned back, seemingly nervous and Athos felt bad, once again. It had been his idea to bring Aramis to the police station, a place which must have held so many bad memories for someone who had been arrested a few times.

“I'll come with you,” he offered and Aramis suddenly perked up. Aramis followed Athos as they both headed out of the office towards the canteen on the floor below which served food every hour of every day due to all the shift-work which went on in the building. 

Aramis seemed to stick very close to Athos when they entered the busy room. Every time someone wearing a uniform came close to them both, Aramis eyed them anxiously, as if he was worried they'd handcuff him on the spot. Aramis was so busy staring at everyone that he accidentally stepped on Athos' foot. Athos flinched and decided that he needed to get Aramis out of the canteen as quickly as possible. Only Aramis was so distracted that he wasn't paying much attention to all of the food on offer. Thankfully, being a vegetarian, it narrowed the choices down quite substantially. 

“There's a cheese baguette, jacket potato or tomato soup?” Athos suggested, trying to help out. Aramis just nodded without even looking at him so Athos got him the jacket potato with melted cheese.

“Here,” he said, passing it to Aramis once he had paid for the meal. Aramis took it in his hands but his eyes were still darting around the noisy canteen with all the people chatting and eating a late lunch. Athos reached out for Aramis' arm and gently guided him out. Once in the hallway, Aramis remained quiet so Athos continued to encourage him back up the stairs and soon they had returned to the office where Porthos was standing by his desk. Athos felt relieved to see him.

“Someone said you'd come in,” Porthos spoke to Athos first but then his gaze was drawn to Aramis and he did a valiant job of hiding his surprise and confusion.

“Sorry,” Athos said, as he walked around Porthos and towards his desk. They couldn't hug at work, it was strange sometimes because Athos often wanted to. “I should have sent you a message but I assumed you'd be here. Where did you go?”

“Oh,” Porthos was staring at Aramis as Aramis carried his jacket potato over. “Went out with Constance to see Professor Mounstephen's wife. Then we popped by to see Charon on the way back.”

“Why did you go and see Charon?” Athos asked as he sat down and noticed that Aramis was lingering, obviously hesitant now that Porthos was standing beside the desk where he had been sitting. 

“You can still sit there,” Athos instructed. “Porthos won't mind.”

Porthos, suddenly realising what was going on, jumped to the side. “Oh no, course not. Sit down, mate. Have your lunch.” He smiled warmly at Aramis who smiled a little back then sat in the chair and tucked into his food, eating small mouthfuls like he did when he always ate.

“Can we talk?” Porthos asked and nodded his head to the closest meeting room. Athos stood up again. “Be back in a minute,” Porthos told Aramis who looked slightly nervous but he nodded and put some more food into his mouth.

Once inside the empty meeting room, Porthos came out with a barrage of questions. “Well, what happened with Marsac? Why is Aramis here? Was he upset? Did it go badly?”

Athos leaned back against one of the desks, perching his arse on it. “It went as expected I suppose. Marsac was telling Aramis that it was all his fault and making Aramis feel bad about it. Then he got nasty. He began to tell Aramis that no-one will ever love him like he did, no-one will ever take care of him like he did and that Aramis belonged to him and various other controlling things.”

Porthos sighed sadly. “Well...I'm sort of glad really...maybe...I wanted him to be an arsehole so Aramis would see what an arsehole he is. How did Aramis react?”

“He was upset,” Athos admitted. “He cried but not because of what Marsac said but because he felt bad that Marsac was unhappy.”

“Fucking hell,” Porthos muttered.

“It'll take time, Porthos, you told me that yourself.” Porthos nodded but there was something else which had Athos' curiosity. “Why did you go and see Charon?” 

Charon was a childhood friend of Porthos'. They had been in the same foster home together once. Only, whilst Porthos had chosen a good path, Charon had chosen the opposite. Still in recent years Charon had begun to turn his life around and had recently opened a boxing gym to give youngsters a safe place to hang out and train. Athos admired him for that.

“Ah, I wanted to see if he'd heard anything about Marsac. I wanted to find out what people were saying on the streets.”

“And?” Athos asked, wanting to know the same.

“He knows someone whose brother used to be a street-dealer for Marsac so he heard that Marsac had been arrested. He knew that much. But he just assumed Marsac had fucked up somehow and the police caught a break. I told him to ask around, didn't tell him about Aramis, and he said he would....”

Before Porthos could finish what he was saying they were both distracted by Constance shouting from the main room, yelling Athos' name. Athos immediately pushed himself up away from the desk and automatically raced over to the door. No-one shouted in the office, not in a way that sounded like that.


	13. The Confession

Swinging the door open Athos went outside and saw Constance getting down onto her knees behind Porthos' desk. Treville was also rushing out of his office and going over. Athos wasn't sure what was going on until he got closer and saw why Constance was on the floor; Aramis was on the ground having a fit. 

Constance pushed the chair away to give Aramis space to thrash about and Athos stood there watching, not knowing what to do. Aramis was on his back, his muscles tight, his whole body convulsing violently. Athos instinctively wanted to grab Aramis and hold him but he knew that wouldn't help.

“Shit,” he heard Porthos saying from behind before the big-man appeared beside him and got down onto his knees opposite Constance. “Call an ambulance. Quick!” He shouted at no-one in particular but it was Constance who got up to move. She began racing to her desk but Athos' brain suddenly began to work again and he realised that he needed to stop her.

“No, wait,” he said which made Porthos shoot his head up.

“Athos, he's having a fit. We need to call an ambulance!”

“I know,” Athos pointed out. “He has epilepsy. Let's wait a few minutes to see if it stops. If not, then we'll call an ambulance.”

Porthos frowned at Athos but then his attention went back to the man on the floor. “It's okay, Aramis,” he said gently, attempting to reach out but seemingly unsure about what to touch. “I'm right here.” 

A curious crowd had begun to gather in the office. A few other detectives were coming closer, peering curiously until Treville noticed.

“Get back to work!” he barked. “Have criminals taken the day off? Then neither should you!”

The cops did as they were told and scurried away apart from Constance who came back and stood alongside Athos.

“Does he have fits often?” she asked him, reaching out to rub his arm which Athos believed was more for her own comfort than his but he didn't mind, although he sure how to answer her question but he did know one thing...

“Recently he has had a few. But he doesn't seem all that wonderful about remembering to take his medication.”

“Fucking knew it,” Porthos was muttering, reaching forward he attempted to stroke Aramis' hair but Aramis had his head arched back in a way that looked quite painful and his eyes were staring blankly at the ceiling as his body continued to jerk and spasm. It was difficult to watch and, what made it worse for Athos, was the fact the could do nothing about it apart from blame himself because he should have been checking that Aramis had been taking his medication and he should have insisted they go to the doctor to make sure that his medication was working. With everything else going on he had partly forgotten about the epilepsy. He shouldn't have forgotten about it. Instead he had to stand there and watch as Aramis had his fit, saliva trickling out of his mouth, arms and legs stiff and jerking rhythmically. 

After what felt like forever but must have been only been another couple of minutes, Aramis muscles began to relax and his body began to calm down. In fact it all stopped and he suddenly looked half the size, curling up into himself on the floor with a quiet whine as he closed his eyes.

“It's okay,” Porthos was whispering, leaning forward and pressing his mouth close to Aramis' cheek. “You're okay, it's over now. I'm here.”

“Take him home,” Treville ordered Athos who looked over to watch the Captain turn around and walk back into his office. He assumed that Treville meant Aramis' home because Treville wouldn't know that Aramis was staying with them. Athos did just want to get out of there. He had meant to quietly smuggle Aramis into work that afternoon but now they had caused quite the spectacle. He stepped forward to lean over and place his hand on the top of Porthos' back.

“Help him up,” he suggested gently and Pothos nodded.

“Aramis, can you stand?” Porthos asked softly. Athos looked down and watched as Aramis whined and did move, only to crossed his arms across his chest and curl up even further on the floor. 

“Tired,” Aramis whispered, barely loud enough for Athos could hear.

“I know, mate,” Porthos said and shuffled back. “That's why we need to get you back home. You can sleep there.” Porthos had an amazing way of making anything look weightless and it wasn't long before he had his arm around Aramis and was pulling the man to his feet. Aramis whimpered in protest but did get up, wobbling about until he leaned heavily against Porthos' side. “Come on,” Porthos said gently, holding on tightly to make sure that Aramis wouldn't fall. 

Constance appeared again and stood in front of Aramis. He attempted to raise his head to look at her.

“Would you like to see Frodo tomorrow?” she asked softly. “I could bring him round and we could take him out for a walk together?”

Aramis managed to nod his head and there was even a little smile but he looked very exhausted and his head soon drooped back down. Constance smiled as well, then turned to Athos to place her hand on his chest in order to stop him from moving off.

“Remember it's Friday,” she said, looking at him sternly. The fact it was Friday was quite meaningless for Athos and he wasn't entirely sure why Constance was informing him of such a fact.

“Okay...” he responded confused which caused Constance to her roll her eyes in disappointment. 

“Friday, d'Artagnan's birthday?”

“Oh!” Suddenly it made sense. The drinks after work. “I'll try and be back for it,” he promised.

“It's not until six,” Constance pointed out. “Please try, it would mean a lot to him.”

Athos nodded and then walked out of the office with Porthos who was helping Aramis put one foot in front of the other. It took them a while to get out of the building but then Aramis seemed to walk by himself better as they made their way across the car-park. Porthos didn't say anything the entire time, just patiently concentrated on getting Aramis into the back of the car safe and sound. 

“Lie down if you like,” he encouraged and Aramis did so, lying down on the back-seat he curled up again, his exhausted body obviously recovering from the fit. After Porthos had closed the car-door he held his hand out to Athos which Athos assumed meant that he wanted to drive. Athos passed Porthos the key and then got into the passenger-side, wondering if Porthos was mad at him. 

Once they were all settled in the car, Aramis dozing in the back, Athos shifted awkwardly in his seat and then decided to be brave and just ask.

“Are you angry with me?”

“No,” Porthos said immediately. “I'm not angry with you, why would you think that?”

Athos shrugged because it certainly felt like he was. The way Porthos sighed rather confirmed his theory.

“I just wish you had told me. I mean, I guess I suspected because I knew about the fits, but you knew he had epilepsy. How did you know? And why didn't you tell me?”

“I found out because I'm a detective and I don't know, I sort of thought you knew anyway and I rather...forgot with everything else,” Athos admitted, completely unsure if that was going to make Porthos more upset or satisfied with the honest answer.

“Just...talk to me about stuff, okay?”

“Okay,” Athos promised and turned over his shoulder to check on Aramis. Although the man couldn't possibly be all that comfortable curled up on the back-seat of the car he looked like he was dozing at the very least. 

“We should try and get him to a doctor,” Athos suggested. “He can't keep ignoring his fits. And it would be good to have him...tested for other things as well. Make sure he's okay.”

Thankfully Porthos seemed to understand Athos' meaning behind the comment as he nodded firmly and nothing more was said in case Aramis was listening. 

Porthos managed to find a parking spot right front of their house and helped Aramis get out the back of the car. Aramis was a little more able this time to walk unaided but he still looked tired and yawned three times as they walked up the path towards the front door. Athos felt sorry for him. It had been scary watching Aramis have one of his fits, he couldn't imagine what it must be like for Aramis; having to live with the constant fear of it happening at any time, wondering if the next one would send you into a coma. Also, having witnessed Aramis having a fit, he was now even more concerned about Aramis' laid-back attitude towards taking his medication. Athos wanted to have a conversation with him about it but decided that it could wait until Aramis was more awake.

“I'm sorry,” the man himself mumbled as he sat down on the sofa-bed. Porthos helped him get his boots off.

“It's not your fault,” Porthos told him. “You get some sleep now. You'll feel much better once you've got your energy back.”

Aramis nodded and then fell back onto the bed, rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes. Porthos gave the duvet a gentle tug but, as Aramis was lying on it and didn't seem very keen to move, Porthos gave up and went to fetch a blanket instead. As Porthos covered Aramis up, Athos went over to the curtains to pull them closed. Then they both left Aramis in peace and went over to the kitchen area where Athos put the kettle on as Porthos glanced at his watch. 

“We've still got three hours until the drinks. You should go. I can always stay here, but you should go.”

Athos didn't want to go without Porthos. He hated going to bars anyway because it meant being social, it also meant being around alcohol. The worry was obviously evident on his face because Porthos came over and wrapped his arms around Athos' entire body. 

“Okay we'll try and go together,” Porthos whispered, changing his mind. He kissed the top of Athos' head and then let go. Athos immediately felt cold when Porthos' arms disappeared.

“That was kinda scary, huh?” Porthos then admitted, nodding his head over to the living-room area where Aramis was sleeping.

“Yes,” Athos admitted. “It is...disconcerting to watch someone you care about having a fit like that.”

“If by disconcerting you mean bloody horrible then yes, it is. Do you know how long he has had epilepsy for? Since you seem to know more about it than I do.”

Athos didn't take the comment to heart because he had a feeling Porthos didn't mean it that way. Instead he scanned over his memories back to the time when Aramis had briefly spoken about it. It was in the brothel and Aramis had implied that Marsac had been helpful in regards to his health.

“I'm not sure. I suspect it began when he was a teenager though from the times he has spoken about it. He once said that Marsac had been helpful about it.”

Porthos nodded and seemed to be thinking about something as he leaned up against the kitchen-side as the kettle hissed. “Yeah, I guess a street-kid having fits isn't a good mix. It would have made him very vulnerable. Maybe Marsac took him to a doctor and stuff. Probably another reason why Aramis thinks he owes him so much.”

“Probably,” Athos agreed and then decided, as they were talking now and as Athos had promised Porthos that he would tell him about everything just a few minutes before, it was time for his confession. “I got angry with him about books.”

“What?” Porthos asked and chuckled. “Books?”

Athos nodded, feeling ashamed. In fact he was so ashamed that he purposely made himself look busy grinding coffee beans which meant he didn't have to see the expression on Porthos' face. “He was taking all the books off the bookshelf and putting them back in the wrong order. I got angry with him about it.”

Porthos went quiet and Athos only realised that he had moved closer when he felt a warm hand on his back. It made him jump at first until the warm hand began to rub soothingly.

“You need to tell him,” Porthos said and kissed the side of Athos' head which made Athos nod. He knew that he did. Not that anything justified the fact he had lost his temper with Aramis earlier but perhaps talking about his OCD would at least help Aramis understand what had happened.

“Alright, I will. Tomorrow, when he is feeling better.”

“Good,” Porthos said and kissed Athos again before getting out two coffee mugs.

Porthos spent the next few minutes filling Athos in on the visit to Professor Mounstephen's wife and how she was in denial about the whole thing. Or at least she was utterly convinced that young Emilie evilly had seduced her innocent, sweet husband and he would be back any moment begging for forgiveness after realising his awful mistake. Still Porthos hadn't discovered much more apart from the fact the Professor's passport was missing and no money had been taken out of their joint account since he had vanished.

“Perhaps it's time we called the airports and border crossings,” Athos suggested. “If they have run away together, which is looking very likely and he took his passport, they've probably left the country.”

“Yeah, god, seems a bit silly huh? I mean, I'm not gonna say I agree with their behaviour because I don't but Emilie is an adult and he's an adult and I don't really know what more we can do.”

“I know,” Athos agreed. “But we need to make sure that is what happened and that they are both safe. I'm amazed the papers haven't gotten hold of this story yet.”

Porthos shrugged. “I think his family are embarrassed and her family don't really know what's going on. But yeah, it'll only be time before it's in the papers. Maybe we'll get them home safe and sound before that happens and then his wife can kill him.”

Athos nodded. “I'll go and call the airlines whilst Aramis is asleep. I might as well get some work done.”

So Athos did and gave them the two names and they all said they'd all check their systems and get back to him as well as putting an alert out just in case they booked any tickets in the meantime. It took Athos a good couple of hours to phone up all of the main airports in France and, by the time he was done, Aramis had begun to stir in the living-room.

“Hey,” Porthos said, sitting at the kitchen table with Athos but smiling over at Aramis. “You alright?”

Athos turned his head and watched as Aramis sat up looking all ruffled, sleepy and cute. He stared over at them bleary-eyed and attempted a smile but then it suddenly changed to a bit of a sob.

“Hey...” Porthos said and immediately got up from the chair. “You alright?” he repeated and went over. Athos watched as Porthos sat beside Aramis on the bed and Aramis immediately leaned into him. Porthos turned to wrap his arms around the man and pull him in for a hug. 

“Hey, you're okay,” he whispered. Athos got up and went over to turn the light on for them, on and off, five times until it was on. Aramis didn't seem to pay much attention to the disco lightening, he was busy pulling away from Porthos a little to look up at him.

“Did I..did I have a fit?” he asked. “It feels like I did.”

“You don't remember?” Porthos stroked some of Aramis' wild curls back which reminded Athos once again that Aramis needed a haircut. Aramis looked like he was thinking for a moment before he just sighed. 

“I'm so sorry,” he said, moving even further away from Porthos and rubbing his face. “I remember being at the police station...I sort of remember.”

Athos walked closer to the sofa-bed. “Did you take your medication this morning, Aramis?”

Aramis looked up at him and gave a bit of a pitiful shrug which caused Athos to almost growl with frustration.

“You must remember to take it.”

Aramis nodded but Athos wasn't entirely sure if that nod would actually translate into the man remembering. Athos went to sit in the armchair because it felt wrong to loom over Aramis imposingly.

“Do you think that your medication might be a little off as well?” Porthos asked, approaching the subject with his usual gentleness. “Maybe we'll pop to the doctor sometime and have a chat, ay? Get you checked out.”

Aramis shrugged once more like he wasn't really so bothered. He was mostly looked incredibly guilty. It was confirmed when Aramis looked over at Athos. “I'm fine and I'm really sorry. You took me to your work and then I let you down.”

Athos frowned, wondering why such a comment would come out of the man's mouth. “You didn't let me down. It's not your fault.”

“You've been so nice to me and I let you down.”

Aramis' face soon disappeared into his hands as he leaned forward. The action surprised Athos. In fact it made him push himself up from the armchair and go over to the sofa-bed where Porthos was rubbing the man's back. 

“Why would you think that?” Porthos asked. “Ain't your fault you're ill. Not your fault at all.”

Athos still didn't like standing over Aramis whilst Aramis was in such a vulnerable state, so he perched himself onto the sofa-bed next to the man on the opposite side to Porthos. It reminded him a little of when Aramis cried after they had helped him at the hospital. It was like Aramis didn't know how to cope when someone showed him a bit of kindness. Kindness without people wanting something from him didn't compute. Except...

“Aramis, that man who runs the restaurant, what do you give him in return?”

“Mr Mathieu? N-nothing,” Aramis raised his face slowly from his hands and sniffed. “We just talk sometimes and he feeds me because he says I'm too skinny.”

“And the ladies at the library? What do they want from you?”

“Want from me? I..I don't know.” Athos briefly glanced up at Athos before turning his gaze back down to his lap. “They don't want anything. They just let me take the books that they don't need...”

“Aramis...” Athos wanted to reach out and touch him but he hesitated. “Think of Porthos and myself like you think of those people. We don't want anything from you. We don't want money or your body and stop worrying about letting us down. You're not letting us down and we won't kick you out. You can stay for as long as you like and we expect nothing in return.”

“Then..why are you doing it?”

Athos wasn't sure how to explain to Aramis that they were helping him because it was the right thing to do and because they cared about him. Whilst he could say those words in his head, he wasn't sure how they would sound out-loud. So he thought for a moment and his thoughts led him to something else. 

“Because you helped us and we want to return the favour and I...I...” And I let you down. He could tell him now, this was his chance, he could finally confess. “...and Marsac hurt you because I made a mistake. He called me on your phone and I told him I was a police officer not realising it was him calling. I'm sorry, Aramis. He found out the truth because I made a mistake. Because I was too busy to look at my phone before answering. I'm sorry, Aramis. He punished you because of a horrible error on my part.”

Aramis looked at Athos blankly before his eyes began to narrow and he slowly squinted, staring at Athos like Athos was strange. “I know,” he pointed out calmly.

“Y-you know?” Athos asked. “No, I don't think you understand. He must have dialed the last person you called to check if Nashiko had been right. And I told him I was a Detective Sergeant. He found out that you had been talking to the police because I accidentally told him who I was.”

Aramis nodded a little. “Athos, I know. I was standing in front of him when he called you.”

Athos almost dropped his jaw. All this time Aramis had known his secret and Aramis wasn't...Aramis didn't...

“You don't hate me?”

Aramis' eyes went wide suddenly. “Hate you? Why would I hate you?”

“Because it was my fault.”

“It's not your fault, Athos. I knew there was a chance that Marsac would find out I'd been helping the police. It was my fault, not yours.”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Porthos interrupted. “You blame yourself,” he nodded at Aramis. “And you blame yourself,” he repeated, nodding at Athos. “There is one person who tried to kill Aramis and one person alone and that's bloody Marsac! I wanna knock your thick-self-blaming heads together.”

That shut them both up and it began to sink in for Athos that Porthos was indeed right. He wanted Aramis to accept the fact that Marsac was the only person to blame for Marsac's behaviour, perhaps he also needed to listen to that advice himself. Maybe it was time to let go of some of that guilt. Aramis had clearly already forgiven him for what had happened.

“Come on, you two, I'm gonna go and make you both something to eat. You must be hungry.”

Athos wasn't sure if he was hungry or not but Porthos had obviously made the decision to cook because he was getting up and walking towards the kitchen. Athos watched him go which was when he noticed the time on the clock in the kitchen area. It was 5'o'clock. D'Artagnan's birthday drinks were starting in an hour and yet Athos didn't want Aramis to be on his own considering the state the man was in. He knew that, despite there being many options, there was really only one which made sense. He left Aramis on the sofa-bed for the moment, going over to the kitchen where Porthos was now pulling out pots and pans.

“Porthos, I'll go to the bar on my own. You stay here with Aramis.”

“You sure?” Porthos asked as he stood up straight, pot in his hand, although his answer made his thoughts on the matter quite clear to Athos. Porthos wanted to stay with Aramis as well.

“Yes, it's fine,” Athos assured him. “I'll just go for an hour or two. Show my face. Then I'll come back home.”

“Alright, love. Do you want to eat before you go?”

Athos thought about it but decided that, by the time Porthos had cooked and he had eaten, he'd be late for the drinks and he wanted to get there as early as possible so he could leave as early as possible.

“No I'll be fine. I'll go and change into a new shirt.”

Athos turned to leave but then was stopped by a 'wait!' from Porthos. So Athos turned back only to have Porthos come over and wrap his arms around him, kissing him on the lips.

“I love you," Porthos said with a smile once he had finished. "Have fun.”


	14. The Birthday Party

By the time Athos turned up late at the tacky Hawaiian cocktail bar, one which seemed to be a regular favourite of the local Paris police force, a few other work colleagues had already gathered. Most of the people there Athos recognised as uniformed officers which d'Artagnan would know well as he had been working with them before his recent promotion to detective. Constance was no-where in sight so Athos made himself busy by going to the bar to ask for a soft drink. 

Whilst at the bar and being served the noise level suddenly increased and, when Athos turned to look over his shoulder he discovered why; d'Artagnan had appeared with Constance and genuinely looked surprised at the gathering. Athos wasn't entirely convinced that Constance had managed to keep the party a secret from the lad but d'Artagnan appeared to be a good actor in any case. Everyone went up to him and shook his hand, wishing him a happy birthday. Athos was pleased to see that the deserving young man was so well-liked and popular. Athos paid for his drink and carried it over to the crowd. He lingered at the back until d'Artagnan had gone round everyone else and finally spotted him. D'Artagnan looked shocked, then his face lit up with a huge grin.

“Athos!” he said as he came over. “I can't believe you're here.”

Athos wasn't entirely sure what to make of the comment, wondering what his reputation was among his colleagues. He suspected they all believed that he was a work-alcoholic and a social-bore, both of which were partly true.

“Happy birthday, d'Artagnan,” Athos said and attempted to sound cheerful. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Oh yes, yes please. Thanks, Athos. I'll have a cider please.” 

D'Artagnan was still beaming at him in a dopey way so Athos attempted to smile back before escaping to the bar, pleased to be away from the chaos and ordered a cider. It wasn't long before he caught the scent of a familiar perfume; Constance had a favourite and she stuck to it. 

“Thank you,” she said, smiling at him warmly as she came over to stand beside him. 

Athos just nodded and waited patiently to be spotted by the barman.

“I know you don't realise,” Constance continued. “But he thinks you're the bee-knees and you coming to his birthday party will mean a lot to him.” Her eyes darted around the room briefly as if she was looking for someone. “Is Porthos not here?”

“No,” Athos confirmed. “I'm sorry. We were worried about leaving Aramis alone after his fit.”

Constance nodded her understanding. “It's sweet the way you both look after him. He's very lucky to have you.”

Athos shrugged. “His life fell apart because of the fact he helped us. We have a duty to support him.”

“No you don't,” Constance quickly corrected him in a way that only Constance had the guts to. “You wouldn't normally do this for an informant. Porthos talks to me about things, you should know that by now.”

Athos looked at her out of the corner of his eye for a moment. He did know that. Porthos did tell Constance everything. In fact he was quite convinced that Constance knew far more about what was going on inside Porthos' head than he ever did and probably ever would.

“We like him,” he admitted, shocking himself about the fact he had just admitted it out loud.

“I know,” she confirmed with another smile. “Just be careful, okay? Look after each other. You and Porthos are what's important, don't let anything ruin that.”

She squeezed Athos' shoulder then left him at the bar to get back to everyone else which Athos was pleased about. That was quite enough talk about feelings for one evening. 

Athos eventually got the cider and went over to hand it to d'Artagnan who then introduced him to all of the uniform cops even though Athos knew most of them already. Some of them had been working the beat back in the brief period Athos had been forced to do the same. A handful were new though so Athos was grateful for the introduction because he would probably work with each of them at some point and it was always good to know names in advance as it made people feel more valued.

In fact he soon found himself sitting to a female policewoman who proceeded to flirt with him for the next hour, her hands getting more ambitious after each sip of wine. She mostly talked to him about funny call-outs and he tried to listen but his mind kept on wondering back to home and wondering how Aramis was; if he had eaten enough, if he was going to sleep at night considering he had slept a little during the day, would the nightmares return again?

Thankfully Constance eventually rescued Athos, just as the woman began to believe it was perfectly okay to start stroking his leg. In fact Constance was chuckling as she dragged him back over to the bar.

“You can ask people to stop, you know,” she said, still laughing. “You don't have to just sit there frozen.”

“I wasn't...I didn't....I wasn't really paying much attention to be quite honest.”

Constance reached out and rubbed his arm with fake sympathy which was when d'Artagnan suddenly appeared on the other side of him, slapping his hands down on the bar which made Athos jump.

“We're going to order a round of the strangest cocktails they have. You want one?”

Athos wasn't quite sure if he was being asked or Constance but he decided to answer anyway.

“No thank you. I'm...driving,” it was easier to make that excuse than to tell the truth.

“Oh I was going to get some non-alcoholic ones as well,” d'Artagnan pointed out before waving his arm around to get the attention of the barman and then proceeded to order enough cocktails for everyone in the entire room even those, Athos suspected, who weren't even a part of the party. As Constance disappeared and the barman started getting busy creating the large order, d'Artagnan turned to Athos.

“You having fun?” he asked with a smile.

“Immensely,” Athos lied, wondering if he could slip away before the 'cocktail' drinking which sounded quite hideous.

“No Porthos?”

“Umm no, sorry, he's looking after someone who is unwell.”

“Aramis? Oh yeah, Constance told me he was staying with you. Give them both my best when you get home.” Suddenly d'Artagnan gasped and looked flustered, like he'd just said something that he shouldn't have. “I mean...umm...not that I know about...I mean...I don't know about you and Porthos...I mean...damn.”

He turned away embarrassed and Athos just rolled his eyes. With Treville and Constance knowing, in fact everyone in the entire Special Investigations Team knowing, he partly suspected that it would only be time before d'Artagnan would have figured it out. He was a detective after all.

“I don't mind that you know,” Athos said to reassure him. “But please, keep it to yourself. Otherwise one of us will be transferred.”

“I won't say anything,” d'Artagnan promised with a look of real honesty in his eyes. “Mum's the word,” he then added, attempting to tap his nose but missing on the first attempt which had Athos wondering how many drinks the lad had already had in the past hour. 

Still, the cocktails arrived soon enough and Athos helped d'Artagnan by carrying a tray over to the gathered group. He sat back down and was passed one d'Artagnan promised was alcohol-free. Athos took a sip, the drink tasted strange but then it was bright green. Thankfully the flirty woman had moved onto another victim and he ended up sitting with Pierre who he knew a little and quite liked. Pierre spoke to Athos about becoming a father a few weeks ago and then proceeded to talk about the baby for ages, which Athos didn't mind as it passed the time. 

In fact, before he knew it, another hour had gone by and another disgusting cocktail had been drunk. It was then that Athos decided two hours was more than enough social time for the week so he stood up to leave. Only, when he stood, he suddenly felt dizzy. He reached forward to place his hand on the back of the wooden chair to steady himself. Perhaps he had just stood up too fast.

“You alright?” Pierre asked concerned.

“I'm fine. I just need to head home.”

Athos pushed himself away from the chair and tried to stand up properly again. Things did seem to settle until he tried to move his legs and, once again, the dizziness was back. It was like his legs weren't doing what he wanted them to do. He felt...tipsy. He immediately stared at all of the empty glasses which had gathered in the middle of the table; the big ones, the small ones, the skinny ones and the fat ones, all abandoned after being drunk. Athos could only come to one conclusion, the cocktails d'Artagnan had insisted were alcohol-free obviously weren't.

“You sure you're alright?” Pierre questioned, looking up at Athos concerned.

“I'm fine!” Athos snapped, perhaps a little louder than he had intended. Thankfully the music and noise in the bar was so loud that no-one else appeared to be paying him much attention. Pierre cowered a little in his seat and then turned to talk to someone else. Athos felt bad for a second but then just wanted to get out of there. Now he was used to the feeling of being slightly intoxicated he managed to co-ordinate his legs enough to walk towards the exit. Outside the cold air hit him like a freight train and he prayed it would sober him up. He'd only drank two cocktails but, having been sober for many years, it was really effecting him. He felt so angry at himself, he should have been more careful and checked! 

His hand immediately went into the pocket of his jacket to call Porthos in a desperate panic but then he stopped himself. No, it was only two cocktails, he could get himself home. He did contemplate driving but the sense part of his brain was still active enough to tell him it wasn't worth the risk when he was feeling so strange. The last thing he needed was to be pulled over by his colleagues for erratic driving. It would be the talk of the station for weeks.

So he walked to the nearest taxi rank and got in. Sitting in the back his legs wouldn't stop shaking. He felt filthy, utterly filthy. He'd drunk alcohol and now his whole body was dirty. He had to wash. He had to wash it all off.

He began scratching at his hands, desperately trying to get the dirt off. The taxi driver seemed to be taking forever and Athos had to bite his tongue not to scream at him to drive faster. His legs were soon bouncing so furiously that it was making Athos panic but he couldn't stop them. Then he felt his chest begin to tighten and breathing became difficult. He scratched at his hands harder, making the skin red and raw but he wasn't concentrating on that, he was trying to slow his breathing down before he had a panic attack. So, as his nails left scratch marks all over his skin, he took in deep, slow breaths but it still wasn't long before he was feeling light-headed. He wanted Porthos and he wanted to wash and he wasn't sure which of those he wanted the most.

Thankfully the taxi eventually pulled up in their street after what felt like a lifetime. Athos wasn't even sure if he had enough money but he at least managed to stop scratching himself long enough to reach for his wallet and pull out a wad of notes. He had enough and almost threw it at the poor driver before stumbling out of the car and staggering up the path. As his legs were now baring his weight they stopped shaking quite as much but now his hands had taken over and were shivering instead. He shoved one of them into his pocket to find his key but it was shaking so badly that he couldn't control his fingers enough to grip onto the key-ring. So, giving up, he knocked instead, reaching out to hold himself up against the door-frame before he fell over.

Only it wasn't Porthos who opened the door it was Aramis. Aramis looked Athos up and down but Athos couldn't even say anything, he felt like if he attempted to move or speak he was going to faint.

“Are you...okay?” Aramis asked.

Athos did try to open his mouth to say something but he couldn't. He needed to wash, he needed to wash all of the alcohol off. He had to do it at that very second but his legs were refusing to move.

“Athos?” Aramis asked again when Athos didn't do anything. Please legs work, Athos begged them in his head. He took in a couple of deep breaths again, trying to get his frantic breathing to calm down but his chest felt tight and he found himself unable to get enough air into his lungs to speak. Calm down, you crazy idiot, he told himself. When he managed to fix his eyes on Aramis he noticed that the man was looking quite scared.

“Athos, what's wrong? Has something happened?” Aramis was asking and moved forward to help.

“No!” Athos managed to yell and took in another shaky breath, forcing the words out. “P-please d-don't touch me...”

“Don't touch...” Aramis looked confused but he did step back into the house. “Shall I get Porthos?”

Athos nodded at that, thankful that he didn't have to speak again. And Aramis left the door open, disappearing into the house. Athos didn't want to be touched, not until he was clean. With Aramis away from the doorway Athos did manage to move his legs enough that he was able to stumble into the house and fell back against the door, slamming it shut. Porthos promptly appeared from the living-room and eyed Athos up.

“Love?” he asked.

Athos, leaning back against the front door, began to wonder how he was going to get into the shower because first he needed to take his shoes off and put them beside the other shoes in their right place and then hang his jacket up on the second hook to the right. He had to do these things...he had to do them but he couldn't do them because he couldn't breathe...his chest was hurting.

“Athos?” Porthos said again and came closer, Aramis was lingering behind and watching the drama unfold, visibly upset and Athos hated the fact he was frightening Aramis but what he hated more was the fact he could do nothing to stop it.

“Hey,” and suddenly Porthos was beside him, stroking his arm. “It's okay, let me help.”

Athos wanted to protest, he wanted to tell Porthos not to touch him, he was too dirty but he couldn't. Porthos made everything feel better. Porthos started helping him tug his jacket off and hung it up on the correct peg, the second one from the right. Then Porthos got down onto his knees and helped him remove his shoes, placing them exactly where they needed to be in the right space as straight as possible. Athos wanted to cry with relief as he watched Porthos do it all correctly but he didn't have the energy to cry.

“Is he okay?” he vaguely heard Aramis whisper for somewhere else in the hallway then Porthos looked over his shoulder.

“He's fine. Go and turn the shower on, would you?”

There was the scurry of feet racing up the stairs and then Porthos was back. He placed his hand firmly on Athos' back.

“You need to wash, don't you? Will that help?”

Athos nodded. Thank goodness he could nod.

“Come on then, love. Remember to breathe for me, okay? That part is kinda important.”

The journey up the stairs took a long time but Porthos was there, taking every step with him, arm around Athos. Athos felt like a completely fool but he couldn't stop the panic attack, it had completely control of his lungs and his limbs and he couldn't stop it. He needed to wash. Washing would stop it.

When they eventually reached the bathroom Aramis was there, Athos couldn't really focus on him but he could hear the shower running.

“Thanks, Aramis. You wanna wait downstairs?” Porthos asked, Athos could tell he was trying to sound composed and in control. Aramis soon disappeared from the room and Porthos let go of Athos to turn and stand in front of him.

“I'm gonna help you get undressed then get you some clean clothes, okay? Is that what you need?”

Athos nodded again because that was exactly what he needed. Porthos already knew and, as Athos stood there, Porthos undressed him. The shirt was easy although Porthos did pause at one stage to examine Athos' scratched hands. Getting Athos' trousers off was a little more tricky when Athos was still feeling so dizzy and light-headed but they eventually managed it and Athos stumbled naked into the shower. Almost instantly he felt better, even though his arms were still shaking and he had pins and needles in his fingers but he managed to co-ordinate his limbs well enough to reach for the shower-gel which he frantically poured onto his hands and rubbed it all over his skin.

He heard Porthos open the bathroom door then gasp 'Jesus!' like something had made him jump. Then he heard the door close and mumbled voices came from outside but he couldn't hear what they were saying over the noise of the water and he didn't want to hear anyway. Don't worry about it, Aramis, Athos is just a freak and he loses it sometimes. Athos, the grown man, the detective sergeant...Athos is a joke. Except Athos knew that Porthos would never say such things. Porthos was a good man, Porthos deserved better. Athos sighed and continued washing every single inch of his body, over and over until he had washed himself five times.

“Athos?” he heard a voice from outside the shower cubicle and looked out of the frosted glass. He hadn't even realised that Porthos had come back in but he could see a Porthos shaped body standing through the stream.

“Got you some clothes. I'll wait out here for you. You've been in there a while now, maybe you should come out now. Unless you want me to come in?”

Athos thought about it for a moment because he felt better when Porthos was close but he eventually decided that would just complicate matters, if Porthos came in and washed him then he'd have to wash up to ten times and his skin was already hurting.

“I'm fine,” Athos assured him. “I'm coming out.”

As he reached for the shower cubicle he was struck by how red and sore his hand looked, covered in painful scratches. Had he done that? He pushed opened the door of the cubicle and stepped outside, the cool air hitting the water droplets on his body and making him shiver. But he didn't get the chance to be cold for long because Porthos was right there, wrapping a large towel around his shoulders and then rubbing him dry. Athos let him because he liked the attention, he needed the attention. In fact he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Porthos' shoulder and was rewarded by a big hug. 

“What happened?” Porthos whispered into Athos' ear. “Are you okay?”

Athos managed to nod his head a little against Porthos' warm body but then he pulled away.

“Let me get dressed first,” he requested. The shower had sobered him up and calmed him down in a way which was quite magical. His hands were steady and nothing was spinning anymore. Porthos patiently waited and even helped Athos put on the clean clothes and then even remained silent as Athos tried to comb his hair in the mirror still covered in condensation. 

“I just need to warn you that Aramis is right outside in the hallway,” Porthos said once Athos was ready to leave the bathroom. Athos paused. He was going to find it difficult enough to tell Porthos, he didn't want to do it in front of Aramis but Porthos continued. “He's really worried about you. In fact he looks like he's gonna puke. I wasn't sure what to tell him because I ain't exactly sure what brought this on myself.”

Athos sighed. He hadn't meant to worry them both. Porthos opened the bathroom door and Athos discovered that Aramis was indeed outside. The second Aramis saw Athos the man tensed.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, like he wasn't sure if he was meant to speak now.

Athos stared at him, studying the look of worry and fear in Aramis' eyes and he wanted to calm him down and assure him that nothing was wrong. Perhaps now was the time to explain it all.

“I'll tell you downstairs.”

Athos sat on Aramis' bed because, since Aramis had come to stay with them, there was now a lack of chairs. Aramis himself also sat on the bed also but left a respectful distance between the two of them. Porthos was in the remaining arm-chair, leaning forward, clearly wanting to reach out and holding Athos but restraining himself to allow Athos to speak first.

“I was foolish,” Athos explained. “D'Artagnan brought a round of drinks...cocktails. I hate cocktails anyway but I felt like I should drink them to please him. I had asked for a non-alcoholic one but I didn't check. I should have checked.”

Porthos just watched but Aramis' anxiety was making him less quiet.

“And what happened?”

“I...stood up and realised that I must have drunk alcohol. I felt dizzy, I suppose I hadn't eaten for a while either, so I left the bar.”

“What happened then?” Aramis asked, fidgeting on the bed, clearly itching to get close to Athos.

“I realised that perhaps I should not drive so I got a taxi.”

“What happened in the taxi?” 

Athos looked at Aramis. “Nothing happened in the taxi. It brought me here.”

Aramis then was the one who looked confused. He glanced over at Porthos then back to Athos.

“I don't understand,” Aramis admitted. “Something bad happened. I know it did. I saw you when you came in. You looked...something bad happened, didn't it?”

“It did,” Athos explained. “I drank alcohol without meaning to.”

Aramis began to look even more confused and Athos felt confused, wondering if he wasn't explaining himself properly. Thankfully Porthos was there to bridge the miscommunication gap between the two of them.

“Athos used to have a drinking problem,” he explained to Aramis. “He drank too much when he was going through his divorce but he managed to give it up and has been tee-total for the last few years.”

“Oooh,” Aramis nodded, as if he was finally starting to understand. “Sorry, I...it's just...the way you were when you came in...that must have been bad, yes, if you haven't drunk for so long.”

“There's more to it than that,” Porthos added and looked over at Athos with a 'you tell him now' raise of an eyebrow.

Athos, however, looked down at his lap. He was embarrassed about telling Aramis. He didn't like people knowing that he had...issues, problems, weaknesses. And yet it was getting to the stage where Aramis must have noticed his odd behaviours and he knew that he needed to explain, especially when he remembered the look of terror Aramis had on his face.

“I...” he began, the other two remained silent as they patiently waited for him to continue. “...I have what's called obsessive compulsive disorder. It means I have these obsessions and compulsions. I get anxious very easily and, when I'm anxious, it leads to these repetitive thoughts in my head and the only way I can calm myself down is by carrying out a ritual. So I often wash my hands five times, have a shower, put on clean clothes or organise something. My OCD also means that I need things to be done in a certain order and a certain way so that I feel in control and I have strange rituals that I do without even realising it half the time."

He didn't look up. He didn't want to see the expression on Aramis' face. He didn't want to see the disappointment.

“That's why he got funny with you about the bookcase,” Porthos explained helpfully. “And that's why he spends half of his life in the bathroom. And that's why the lights go on and off five times whenever he's near a light-switch. The number five is his...thing. He's a bit obsessed with the number five.”

“The shoes...” Aramis said, as if he was beginning to understand. “...I thought maybe it was just because you were a policeman and liked things to be organised. I didn't realise, Athos, I'm sorry.”

Athos lifted his head up and looked over at Aramis. “Nor should you have realised.”

“I'll be more careful,” Aramis promised. “I won't mess things up anymore. I'll be careful not to put things out of order.”

“No it's...” Athos shook his head. Aramis feeling guilty wasn't what he wanted at all. “...I need to learn to cope with it. Porthos and I have worked on a lot together since we began living with each other. I used to get stressed whenever he used to the kitchen but now I don't. I let him cook and leave things lying around until after we've eaten. It's good for me to change. I can't control everything in life, I need to learn to cope.”

“I know but...I'll just be more careful. I don't want you to be angry with me.”

“I won't be angry with you,” Athos insisted. The fact that Aramis seemed to spend his life apologising for things which weren't his fault and feeling guilty for stuff which wasn't his fault either, was starting to drive Athos barmy. He turned on the sofa-bed a little to look at the man.

“Aramis, I know very little about your past all things considered but something in your past has made you developed this habit of thinking that everything which happens is somehow your fault. You're not doing anything wrong. If anything, it is Porthos and myself who have been behaving badly as we are sometimes impatient with you when we should be more understanding. So please stop all of the apologising and worrying about upsetting us. You are wonderful the way you are. Porthos and I are very pleased to have you here.”

Athos was rather shocked that he had said all of those things out loud. He turned to look at Porthos who had a dopey smile on his face like he was proud or something. Suddenly Athos felt very embarrassed. 

“Are you really pleased to have me here?” Aramis asked quietly which made Athos turn back to him. Aramis was looking flummoxed, he was scratching at a mark on his trousers which reminded Athos of the time he had met Aramis in the cafe all of those weeks ago. So much had happened since that day.

“Yes,” Porthos said warmly when Athos took too long to answer. “Very pleased. We like having you here. You really can stay for as long as you want.”

“I'm not a burden?”

“No, mate, never a burden.”

Aramis' bottom lip had begun to wobble like he was on the verge of tears so Athos tried to think of something which would cheer the man up.

“Porthos has been working on trying to discover if people know that you helped the police. With any luck people don't know and Nashiko and your friend from the brothel have kept it a secret. If that's the case, you'll soon be-able to come and go as you please.”

“And, if that isn't?” Aramis asked.

“We'll come up with a plan B. In the meantime you'll be safe if you go outside with us. Constance promise that she would bring Frodo around, didn't she? So, tomorrow, we can all take him for a walk somewhere nice.”

That made Aramis happy. His whole face lit up like it always did when the dog was mentioned.

“Did she?” he asked, obviously not remembering that conversation. “That would be amazing. I miss him so much.”

“Yeah and Athos ain't gonna work for a whole day.”

“I'm not? But...Porthos...we still need to find Emilie.”

“Nope he's gonna spend the whole day with us, giving us his entire attention.”

“I am?”

“Yup, because I wanna keep an eye on you.”

“I'm fine.”

“You always say that when you're not. Athos...” Porthos came over and knelt down onto the carpet in front of them both, “...pretend this evening never happen. Don't treat this like you're going back to day one again. You had a couple of stupid cocktails, it don't mean anything. You're doing great, okay?”

Athos nodded, mostly to please Porthos. Porthos sighed and looked from Athos to Aramis then back to Athos again. “What am I gonna do with the pair of you, huh?”

He then looked down at Athos' hands and Athos' eyes followed him. His hands were very red and were now terribly sore.

“You need some cream. Wait here.”

Porthos got up and disappeared off into the kitchen. 

“Athos,” Aramis asked from beside him. “How long have you had OCD for?”

Athos supposed that it was normal for Aramis to be curious and want to ask questions so he decided to answer them as honestly as he could. “Since I was a child. I was a strange little boy who had a lot of strange habits. I remember having to line my teddy-bears up in height order on the shelf and getting terribly stressed if anyone moved them. I had to measure the pillows on my bed to make sure that they were exactly in the middle before I could sleep. Silly things like that. I think it drove my parents up the wall, they were always getting angry at me for having these bizarre habits. The problem was, the more angry they got with me, the more anxious I began to feel and the worst my OCD was. The second I was old enough to leave home I did and went off to University in another country."

“So you're not from France?” Aramis asked. 

“No, I am,” Athos responded. “I went to England for University then came back to France to join the police-force. I don't know why I joined the police-force. I suppose I always enjoyed puzzles and solving things so I thought I'd put those skill to good use. It disappointed my parents hugely of course, their son being nothing but a uniformed police officer but I didn't stay in uniform for long. I was awful at it truth be told because I've never been good with people but I managed to get good results which caught the attention of Captain Treville who obviously saw something in me because he made me take my detective exam and asked me to join the Special Investigations Team when it was set up."

“Wow,” Aramis said, seemingly interested in all of it. “Are your parents proud of you now?”

“I have no-idea,” Athos admitted. “I rarely speak to them anymore.”

“They should be,” Aramis mused and then reached out and wrapped his arms around Athos. "I'm proud of you."

Athos stayed frigid in Aramis' arms but his stomach felt warm on the inside.


	15. The Aramis Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Thank you for all the comments and kudos! Always appreciated and they do spur me on.
> 
> Still no internet after seven weeks :( :( But sometimes my phone signal is strong enough to use so I can read stories and post...sometimes. All I want for Christmas is wi-fi!
> 
> Anyway, have a long, calm chapter.]

Porthos was soon back and was rubbing some sort of aloe-vera cream gently into Athos' scratched hands. Athos watched and appreciated how the cold cream soothed his sore skin. Once Porthos had deemed that enough cream had been rubbed in, he ordered the pair of them to get comfortable on the sofa-bed whilst he put a DVD on. When one of the Bourne films began Porthos then disappeared again to make them both hot drinks. Athos was never really one for sitting down and watching television but his body felt exhausted and so he appreciated being-able to just sit back, turn his thoughts off temporarily and enjoy the action movie. 

Leaning against the back of the sofa-bed, Athos felt Aramis get closer, pushing his warm body up against Athos' side until he was almost sitting on him. Athos didn't mind, if Aramis needed a bit of physical contact then he was willing to be the recipient. 

When Porthos reappeared he also planted himself on the sofa-bed and they all sat squeezed together facing the television, sipping at their hot drinks. Half-way through the movie an arm slowly wrapped around Athos' stomach. Athos at first assumed it was Porthos until he realised that the arm was too light. He looked down and discovered that it was Aramis' arm. Aramis had curled up against his side, legs tucked up, knees moving to rest on top of Athos' legs. Aramis then nuzzled his cheek against Athos' shoulder.

Whilst Athos hadn't minded Aramis sitting close to him, this was a little different. 

“Help,” he whispered to his boyfriend who was sitting to his left but Porthos only chuckled in his deep bellowing way.

“Let him hug you. Poor mite.”

Porthos gave him a reassuring kiss on the side of the head although Athos didn't feel very reassured; he felt trapped. He closed his eyes momentarily and told himself to calm down and relax. He enjoyed being held usually, although he never admitted that out-loud, with Porthos he suspected that he never needed to. Just because this was Aramis and not Porthos, that made no difference. Athos slowly opened his eyes again once he had decided that it was fine and he looked down at Aramis. He couldn't see much apart from the mop of unruly hair which sat on top of Aramis' head but the man's body language was one of the contentment and that made Athos feel...happy.

As the movie went on Athos could tell that Aramis had fallen asleep because his breathing had slowed down and his head had dropped onto Athos' chest. Once the movie had finished, Athos tried to figure out how he was going to get off the bed without disturbing the man too much. He eventually decided, as the credits rolled, that he was just going to have to wiggle out from underneath Aramis and hope for the best. Only, as soon as he began to move, Aramis whimpered in protest and his fingers gripped onto Athos' shirt which made Athos freeze again. 

“I'll get you both the blanket,” Porthos whispered, moving off the bed with the ease of someone who didn't have a sleeping man on top of him. 

“Wait!” Athos cried out as quietly as possible. “I'm not staying.”

“Why not?” Porthos asked, looking over his shoulder as he sat on the edge of the sofa-bed. “It'll be nice for him. I think he likes the company.”

“You're going to leave me here alone with him?” Athos asked, worried about the entire situation.

“No, you loveable dork,” Porthos snorted. “I'll stay as well.”

Porthos placed a blanket over the pair of them and then crawled back onto the sofa-bed beside Athos. Athos was amazed that they all managed to fit but they did, just about. Now resigned to the fact he wasn't getting off the bed, Athos sunk down a little, Aramis sliding with him without waking up. Athos even dared to wiggled his arm out from being trapped between their bodies and wrapped it around Aramis. The result of such an action made Aramis curl up even closer. 

Then Athos lay there staring up at the ceiling until Porthos turned the television off and the room was plunged into darkness. It was in that moment that Athos suddenly realised something. 

“I haven't brush my teeth,” he pointed out. In fact he hadn't done any of his night-time rituals at all. He wasn't possibly going to go to sleep without doing them.

“It doesn't matter,” came the sleepy voice of his boyfriend beside him.

“No but I...”

“Athos,” Porthos said firmly. “It doesn't matter. Go to sleep, love.”

But it did matter, it mattered greatly to Athos but they were all comfortable and to move now would destroy it all. Aramis would wake up and Porthos would be disappointed. Athos closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep. For a while it was impossible, he couldn't stop thinking about how unpleasant his teeth felt and how dirty his skin must be. But then he began to listen to Aramis' slow breathing soon interrupted by Porthos' snores and, amazing, he eventually fell asleep.

When he woke up a few hours later it was to a warm hand stroking his chest through his crumpled shirt and a very pleased looking Aramis smiling down at him.

“You stayed,” the man stated. Athos was too sleepy to really formulate a response, he could barely remember why he was even sleeping downstairs in the first place. Warm lips then pressed against his own and Athos automatically closed his tired eyes. He moaned happily against the mouth, inviting it to do whatever it desired. Aramis' kiss was gentle and soft, just tendering stroking their lips together. When Aramis eventually pulled away Athos slowly opened his eyes again to look up at the happy man still beaming down. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen Aramis look so happy before. He could feel Aramis' fingers move from his chest down towards his stomach, gentle rubbing as they went along. 

“Thank you,” Aramis then said as his fingers then began to tug Athos' shirt out from his trousers. “Do you want a blow-job? Porthos is here now so I'm allowed to do it.”

That woke Athos up.

“What?!” he immediately asked, the words automatically lifting the foggy tiredness from his head.

“As a thank you,” Aramis explained, as if he hadn't said anything strange.

“God no...Aramis...” Athos sighed and lifted up his head a little. He looked to his side and discovered Porthos lying on his front, still fast-asleep. Aramis got his attention again when he moved back and knelt up on the bed.

“But you two both like me,” he mumbled and then looked a little forlorn. Athos groaned in frustration, he could already feel a headache coming on and he wasn't sure if that was because of the blasted cocktails or his life because, dear god, he did want Aramis to give him a blow-job but the way Aramis offered himself up so easily just didn't feel right.

“Yes, we do both like you,” Athos concurred, hoping that would be helpful and provide Aramis with a little reassurance.

“Then what am I doing wrong? Usually people don't say no. Is it because you want to fuck me? You can if you like.” And, as Aramis asked, he also began to pull his T-shirt off over his head as if he was quite certain how Athos would respond.

“No! And you're not doing anything wrong...” Athos sighed. How on earth was he going to explain it? He paused for a moment, slightly distracted by the way Aramis was getting undressed. Athos had to force himself to stop staring at Aramis' chest and return his gaze to Aramis' face as he tried to think of what to say and how he could explain it. He wanted Aramis to understand that these things shouldn't just be offered up so easily. Such moments should be special and done at the right time for the right reasons. “Aramis, I don't want you to make these offers as a thank you or as an apology or because you want something from us. That's not how it should be.”

“Then when do you want me to do it?”

“When do I want you to...” Athos had to repeat the question because he was trying to take it in. It made him sigh again, Aramis really just didn't seem to understand. “I want you to do it when you want to do it. When you feel like you are ready for it. When we're all ready for it, if we ever are. This is...jumping forward quite substantially.”

“Ready for it?” Aramis asked, frowning in confusion now. Athos was pretty sure that he wasn't explaining himself well at all so decided to promptly give up. 

“You know, I really do think that it'll be a good idea for you to go and see Ninon. She's very helpful and she can talk to you about all of this stuff. I'm really not very good at it.”

Porthos was moving and stirring now which Athos was grateful for because he felt like he was in great need of rescuing.

“Okay,” Aramis agreed. “If you want me to go and see her.”

“I want you to want to go and...nevermind.” Athos promptly clambered out of bed, leaving Aramis kneeling there half-naked. The bed had started to feel suffocating and he needed to get some fresh air. He also needed to tuck his shirt back into his trousers although, looking down, he realised that he needed a new shirt. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept in his clothes.

“So I shouldn't suck Porthos off either?” Aramis asked which had Athos turning around quickly as his headache continued to pound just in time to see Porthos' flummoxed face.

With Porthos awake Athos decided to forgo any coffee until after he had brushed his teeth and showered. He promptly did both and put on a new set of clothes which automatically made him feel a lot better and even cured some of his headache. He could hear Porthos and Aramis talking downstairs and he could smell the breakfast Porthos was making so he figured that he wouldn't be missed for another few minutes. He picked up his laptop from the bedside table and placed it on the bed. When it had loaded up and he quickly logged onto the police system, typed in the name René d'Herblay and immediately a recent picture of Aramis came up along with his rap-sheet. Athos had read it all before back when the case started but now he was looking at it with different eyes. If they were going to help Aramis, they first needed to understand him. 

Aramis was first arrested at the age of fourteen for shoplifting, then again a few months later for being a passenger in a stolen car. Both times he was cautioned and then taken away by social services only to disappear the following day. He wasn't then arrested again until he was nineteen for solicitation. Then another couple of times in his early twenties for the same thing. Athos found that the police file wasn't giving him the sort of information he wanted so he closed it down and typed something else into the search engine - Father Vincent. Athos knew about the case because it had been all over the news but it had happened before his time as a policeman so he didn't know all of the details. A lot of information came up on the police system which didn't surprise him, it had been a big-deal at the time; a well-known local priest being arrested for child abuse had really divided the community. 

Athos searched for the names of the boys who had come forward in the abuse trail. Only five had given evidence although the police suspected that there had been a lot more involved. The name René d'Herblay was not one of those on the list. Athos wondered if perhaps Aramis' old name had come up in one of the interviews with the other boy's though because Anne did seem to think that Aramis had been connected to it somehow. So Athos continued to search, only he didn't get very far because Porthos was calling him down for breakfast. Athos shut his laptop and decided to continue looking later.

Downstairs Aramis and Athos sat at the kitchen table whilst Porthos served up a delicious breakfast of warm croissants, scrambled eggs on toast and fresh orange juice. When they were all sitting Porthos began to speak.

“Called Constance. She'll bring the dog round at ten. Didn't tell her about last night,” he added, glancing over at Athos. “She thinks you'd just had your social-fill so disappeared. You can decide if you want to tell her or not.”

Athos sat there poking his scrambled egg with his fork before saying, “Why would I tell her? I don't want d'Artagnan to feel guilty about it, he doesn't know about my...problem. He was just enjoying himself.”

“Your choice,” Porthos said with a small shrug. “And Aramis and I were just talking. I asked him what he wanted to do this evening. He said that he'd like to eat out somewhere and he wants us to meet Mr Mathieu. I don't think that'll be a problem, do you? Not if he's with us.”

Athos shook his head and watched Aramis who suddenly averted his eyes as if he was worried that Athos was going to say no. Because of such a reaction, Athos knew that it would be cruel of him to do so. “No, that's fine. I'd like to meet Mr Mathieu.”

The smile he got as a reaction from Aramis was the reaction he had wanted to get. 

“There we go see,” Porhos said as a reassurance to Aramis, he even reached out and gave Aramis' hand a squeeze. “We'll have an Aramis day. Do all the things you want to do.”

Aramis nodded and lifted his head up. “I...really? I mean...do you want to do these things?”

“Course,” Porthos said and then shoved some croissant into his mouth. When he had chewed and swallowed he had another question. “What about this afternoon? What do you want to do then?”

Aramis did appear to think about it but he didn't come up with an answer. “I don't know,” he shrugged.

“Well I've got an idea,” Porthos suggested. “But only if you want to. How about we go clothes shopping? You could do with some more. Yours are all too big for you and getting worn.”

“I don't have enough money for clothes shopping though. Usually Marsac takes me so I shouldn't really go with...” What he was going to say trailed off and he frowned, as if realising what he was just about to say didn't make sense anymore.

“Well we can pay,” Porthos said then paused himself to think of a moment. “And you can pay us back eventually, if that's important to you?”

“I don't know how I'm going to pay you back when you won't let me work,” came the snappy response which had Athos secretly smiling to himself. He was pleased to see some of the old feisty Aramis coming back. The reaction shocked Porthos a little more though and he sat back in his seat. 

“I...well...we don't have to worry about that,” Porthos stumbled and turned his attention back to his breakfast. Athos decided to help.

“Perhaps you can do chores for us in the mean-time?” he proposed. “With Porthos and I at work all day, it is a struggle to keep the house clean sometimes and, well, you now know that I like things to be clean.”

“Oh okay,” Aramis said, thinking about the idea for a moment until a smile grew across his face. “Yeah, that'll work. It'll keep me busy during the day and then I'll feel like I'm helping out.”

“Good,” Athos said with a nod and made a mental note to cancel the cleaner for a few weeks but Aramis didn't need to know that.

When Constance and the dog arrived the dog spent the first few minutes racing around the house in excitement which had Athos cringing and clenching his fists every time it narrowly avoided breaking something. When Frodo jumped up on the sofa-bed Athos couldn't stop himself from gasping in horror which made Porthos chuckle and give him a comforting hug. But Aramis did manage to calm the dog down and soon it had its lead on and they were outside, heading towards the local park. The whole affair was very uneventful except Athos couldn't avoid noticing how happy Aramis was, both being outside and being with his friend again, make that two friends considering he talked to Constance non-stop the entire time. Athos didn't mind, Constance was a lovely person and he was pleased that her and Aramis got on so well. They seemed to talk about books, dogs, the weather and all sorts whilst Porthos and Athos lingered behind.

Then they all had lunch at home before Constance headed off with the dog and it was time for shopping. Aramis still appeared to be in good spirits as they went to the local shopping centre. Shopping was up there in Athos' top five least favourite things to do and he did wonder why on earth he hadn't just insisted that he stay at home before realising that Porthos never would have let him because Porthos knew full well that Athos would have worked from home the second he had been alone...which would have been true. It had been playing on Athos' mind that Emilie was still technically a missing person and yet they were outside shopping whilst she was still out there somewhere. But Athos did his best to brush those worries aside, knowing that Emilie was most likely safe, as they walked around the clothes shops.

Aramis didn't seem to have much of a clue about clothes shopping. It made Athos suspect that Marsac had always told Aramis what to wear, something Aramis had hinted at earlier on. But it wasn't long before a couple of female shop assistants were over and helping him decide. Aramis' sweetness and charm, it seemed, had an affect on both genders. The shop assistants selected a pile of clothes for him to try on, mostly casual, then Aramis disappeared off into the changing rooms. Porthos had a big beaming smile on his face the entire time because Porthos had a heart of gold and there was nothing the man seemed to enjoy more than making someone else happy. 

Porthos' smile only vanished when Aramis re-appeared wearing his first outfit, because it made Porthos gasp. Aramis was standing there in very different clothes to his usual baggy, dark outfits. He was wearing a white shirt, grey cardigan and smart blue jeans. He looked very handsome indeed. Athos, and he suspected Porthos, had to shake himself a little bit to break out of the stare.

“It suits you,” Athos squeaked. 

“You think?” Aramis asked, seemingly unsure. “It's a bit...I'm not sure it's very me.”

“Well then try on the other stuff,” Porthos suggested. “You have to be comfortable in it but, Aramis, you do look good in that.”

Aramis nodded but disappeared back into the changing-room and ended up only picking the jeans and a t-shirt to buy but, still, it was a start. They visited a couple of further shops where Aramis' confidence in deciding for himself began to blossom. It was when he was showing them his last outfit; a black shirt, dark blue jeans and black converse shoes which he looked particularly attractive in, that Porthos pipped up about another problem. 

“We need to get you a haircut, mate,” he said, deciding that it was Aramis' hair which was the only thing stopping Aramis from looking completely perfect. Aramis reached up and ran his fingers through his curls protectively. 

“But Marsac likes it long,” he protested and then flinched and shook his head, as if telling himself off. Athos stepped forward sympathetically.

“How would you like it?”

“A little shorter, I guess,” he admitted, tugging at the tangled mop on his head. 

“Then we'll get it a little shorter.”

Porthos stood protecting the bags of clothes as Aramis sat on the barber's chair. Thankfully they had found a friendly barber who was being incredibly patient as Aramis changed his mind about five times only to eventually go with what the barber had suggested in the first place. The barber didn't cut off a lot, just enough to tidy up Aramis' curls and make them sit better around his face. 

“Is it okay?” Aramis asked once the barber had finished, looking once again for approval because he seemed unsure about deciding for himself.

“It looks...” Breathtaking, Athos thought as he stared. “...very handsome,” he ended up saying because it sounded a little less obvious.

“Good,” Aramis smiled as he got up off the seat. “I'm gonna have to do a whole lot of chores to make up for all this,” he then said as Porthos proceeded to pay. Porthos just chuckled and Athos wondered if Aramis had any idea how happy he was making Porthos just by being in their lives regardless of how much it was costing them.

“Damnit,” Porthos muttered when they promptly discovered a problem the moment they got back home. Aramis now had a small wardrobe full of clothes and yet no wardrobe. “Why did we get a one bedroom house?” he asked Athos with a sigh.

“Because we are a gay couple who have no intention of adopting children and it was cheap,” Athos pointed out helpfully.

“It doesn't matter,” Aramis insisted. “I can just fold up my clothes and put them down the side of the sofa-bed, look.” Aramis moved to do just that, placing his bags of shopping down beside the sofa-bed and out of sight although they weren't out of sight at all because he couldn't fit them all down there.

“No, no, no,” Porthos said. “We need to hang some of them up. Come on, I'll find space in my wardrobe. We can't use Athos' because he'll get funny.”

“I won't get...” Athos said, beginning to protest before realising that actually yes he would. Even Porthos had the sense to leave his perfectly organised wardrobe alone. Whilst the other two were arranging clothes upstairs, Athos grabbed his laptop to take downstairs before Porthos noticed and sat down to email Ninon. He asked if she could fit Aramis in at some point. He knew that he wouldn't get an answer from her until Monday so he re-opened the files on the Father Vincent case whilst he waited but he barely managed to read anything new because the other two re-appeared and Porthos announced that they should really head off to the restaurant.

Athos knew the restaurant because it had been part of his 'patch' during his brief time as a uniformed officer but it had changed hands since those days so he had never met Mr Mathieu. He was rather looking forward to meeting the man because he obviously meant something to Aramis. When they got inside the restaurant it was busy but, the moment the young waitress came over, her face lit up.

“Aramis!” She cried, clearly very pleased to see him again. “Wow you look good.”

Aramis smiled a little shyly. “Yeah I...got a haircut.”

“Your clothes as well,” she pointed out, eyeing up his new outfit which made Porthos step a little closer to Aramis in a jealous way which amused Athos. “Oh it's good to see you. Mr Mathieu will be so pleased you're here. He was worried about you. He kept on asking us if we'd seen you.”

“Really? Asking about me?” Aramis asked as if the very idea of someone being concerned was alien to him, which Athos suspected it probably was.

“Yeah oh and, if anyone says anything...” the young waitress whispered to them out of the side of her mouth, “...just say you booked a table. Otherwise the people waiting for a table at the bar will get pissed off.”

She led them across the main room and gave them a table right in the middle. The restaurant was very tastefully decorated with candles lit along the painted red walls and dark wooden beams above their heads. Athos was never really one for restaurants because they were always chaotic and busy but he was doing it for Aramis. Once they were all seated the friendly waitress handed out the menus. 

“I'll go and tell him you're here,” she then said and disappeared off somewhere.

Aramis leaned forward, the menu in his hands as he whispered. “I don't know what left-overs he'll have at this time of day. I don't usually come this early when he's busy. We'll have to wait and see.”

Athos felt a little confused. Left-overs? Thankfully Porthos figured it out before he managed to.

“Mate, we can pay for the food. Have what you want. Look at the menu,” he said and nodded towards Aramis' hands. Aramis blinked blankly for a moment and then muttered an 'oh' and sat back as he picked up the menu. 

They were all reading through the choices when someone came towards the table with arms outstretched and Athos turned to look. Mr Mathieu was a short man with black hair that was starting to turn very grey at the sides. His face was covered in wrinkles which Athos suspected was probably more due to smoking than age. 

“Aramis!” The man cried, clearly overjoyed by the fact Aramis had re-appeared. Aramis got up off the chair to allow Mr Mathieu to embrace him in a tight squeeze. “I was worried about you,” Mr Mathieu admitted then he pulled back and held Aramis' face firmly in his hands. He tugged Aramis' face down and kissed him on both cheeks and then didn't seem keen to let go, as if he was afraid Aramis would disappear again.

“How are you? Where have you been?”

“Oh I...it's complicated,” Aramis admitted and politely pulled out of the embrace to sit back down. 

“I saw on the news that your boss had been...” Mr Mathieu seemed to hesitate as he glanced over at Athos and Porthos, clearly wondering how much he should say in front of them both. His attention then went back to Aramis “...well I was concerned. I was asking around but no-one seemed to know where you had gone.”

Athos made a mental note of that. It was interesting that, so far, no rumours were going around that Aramis had been helping the police. It was a positive sign.

“I got told that most of the...workers would be looking for new employers,” Mr Mathieu explained diplomatically, still glancing at Porthos and Athos out of the corner of his eye as if he was uncomfortable having the conversation in front of them both, which Athos could understand. “I was hoping you'd come to me first before you did that.”

“Oh I'm not working at all at the moment,” Aramis informed him and then, obviously noticing Mr Mathieu's hesitation, decided to make the introductions. “This is Porthos and this is Athos. They're my friends.”

“Friends?” Mr Mathieu raised his eyebrow.

“Yes,” Aramis said with a smile and Athos suddenly worried that Aramis was about to introduce them as policemen. If Aramis wasn't known as a snitch before, he was about to land himself in it. “Porthos is an architect and Athos works in the cleaning industry.” 

Athos' 'job' made Porthos snort with amusement but thankfully Mr Mathieu didn't seem to notice. He still looked suspicious but obviously decided that it wasn't the right time or place to question Aramis any further. “You've never brought friends here before. This must be a reason to celebrate. I have a new vegetable pasta dish as one of my specials, could you three like to try it? I could do with some honest opinions.”

“I love pasta!” Aramis announced and looked over at Athos and Porthos. “Do you want pasta?”

Athos, not bothered, nodded and Porthos put down his menu and smiled saying 'sure'.

“Wonderful!” Mr Mathieu said and then turned back to Aramis and said, “And I have some lovely desserts so make sure you all leave some room. I'd best get back to the kitchen before someone burns it down. It's good to see you, my boy.”

He reached down and gave Aramis' shoulder a squeeze. “We'll talk soon, okay?” he said a little quieter but Athos still heard. It actually warmed him to think that someone out there did care for Aramis, so much so that he was suspicious of Athos and Porthos and rightly so. When Mr Mathieu had disappeared back into the kitchen Athos leaned forward.

“I'm glad you didn't tell him who we were. You shouldn't really, not until Marsac's trial is over.”

“Yeah I...just sort of suddenly thought that maybe it wasn't a good idea.”

Athos nodded his appreciation. “We should come up with a cover story. A reason as to how we all met.”

“Athos,” Porthos butt in. “A lot of people know who we both are anyway. You used to be a uniformed cop around here and most people know me. A cover story seems a bit pointless.”

Athos eyed him up but perhaps Porthos was right and he should relax. He did try, when the pasta arrived nice and hot Athos inspected the cutlery for a moment before deciding that it looked clean enough so he ate the meal. It was very delicious. 

“Where are you from originally?” Porthos asked, trying to make conversation with Aramis whilst gathering information at the same time no doubt. Only Aramis shrugged at the question, obviously not keen to answer it.

“Paris?” Porthos questioned, trying again.

“I've lived in Paris for a while yeah,” Aramis answered and put a small fork of pasta into his mouth.

“I'm from here,” Porthos said. “Mother died when I was young and I never knew my father so I was brought up in children's homes and foster care mostly. Weren't so bad though, I had a nice foster mother for a while.”

Aramis seemed to be watching him and nodded. “My dad died when I was young,” he responded. It was the first piece of information he'd given them about his family, apart from mentioning his grandmother an awful lot. Athos suspected that his grandmother played a large part in Aramis' upbringing.

“I'm sorry to here that, mate,” Porthos said. “Is your Mum still around?”

Aramis gave another shrug then looked around the room. Clearly he wasn't very interested in talking about his family. Porthos obviously decided to give up with the subject as well because his next question was about food and Aramis' attention returned.

Once they had finished their desserts Athos needed to wash his hands. Not because he was anxious but just because he hadn't done it in a while. So he got up and went to use the bathroom. After washing his hands five times he went back out where his arm was promptly grabbed by someone and he was pulled to the side. His first instinct was to fight but he quickly realised it was Mr Mathieu so he decided to give the man the benefit of the doubt.

“What are you doing with Aramis?” The man said, looking up at Athos who was a good few inches taller.

“What are we doing with him?” Athos asked, having to repeat the question.

“Yes,” Mr Mathieu looked at him firmly. “I've never heard him talk about having friends before. At least not the normal kind. Forgive me for being suspicious.”

“I understand,” he said, because he truly did. “But you don't have to worry. We only want the best for him.”

“How do you know him?” Mr Mathieu asked, his fingers still gripping onto Athos' arm but not in a way which was painful. “Are you some of his...clients?”

“No!” Athos answered quickly. He could partly why Mr Mathieu would jump to that conclusion having seen two grown men suddenly turn up with Aramis after Aramis had lost his pimp but, god no, he didn't want Mr Mathieu to make that sort of assumption. “No, we're...I can't really say.” He knew that he should have come up with some elaborate and believable lie but he couldn't think of one fast enough.

Mr Mathieu squinted at him, obviously trying to figure it all out. “He doesn't have anyone who looks out for him, that boy. Only that awful boss of his who is now locked up, thank god. So I need to. Either you tell me who you are and what you want from him, or I swear to god I'll get the police involved.”

“You really don't need to do that,” Athos pleaded. Then he pondered for a moment. Mr Mathieu did genuinely seem concerned for Aramis' welfare, perhaps he could give the man a hint at the truth especially as, since Porthos pointed out, it wouldn't take a genius to discover who they were. “I am the police,” Athos pointed out.

Mr Mathieu really squinted then, staring up at Athos suspiciously until something obviously clicked in his head. 

“Oh...oh,” the man said. “I see.”

Athos knew that Mr Mathieu was probably now assuming that Aramis was in some sort of witness protection programme but perhaps that wasn't a problem. At least Mr Mathieu would know that Aramis was safe but, even so, Athos decided to make sure.

“It's really important that you tell no-one,” Athos pointed out and Mr Mathieu nodded, letting go of Athos' arm and patting it.

“I won't. Forgive me for being protective, like I said, the lad has no-one else.” 

“I understand,” Athos said, actually pleased that Aramis did have someone looking out for him. “We're doing our best to help him.”

Mr Mathieu nodded, clearly happier now with the situation. In fact he ushered Athos back to the seat and then said that the whole meal was on the house, refusing to take their money. When they got back home Athos needed to be by himself so went upstairs into the bedroom. Porthos, thankfully, didn't come after him and stayed downstairs with Aramis. So Athos got his laptop out again and reopened the file on Father Vincent. He knew that the easiest way to find out if Aramis was connected to the case was to ring Anne but he would rather poke a fork in his eye and a spoon in his ear than do that so he continued to search.

He found the names of the detectives who had been the case and noted them down in case he needed to talk to them but he also found the transcripts of the interviews they had done with the boys. This was long time before the days of filming interviews, but the transcripts of the tape recordings had been typed out then scanned onto the system at a later date. Athos saved them to read over the next few days.


	16. The Hotel

The following morning Athos was woken up by his mobile ringing and vibrating on the bedside table. It almost vibrated right off the table but Athos managed to reach for it in time, lifting it to his ear with half of his face still firmly planted against the pillow.

“Hello?” he croaked. 

“Good morning, Athos!” Came the far too cheerful voice of d'Artagnan. “I just had a phone-call from a phone company. Emilie turned her phone back on and used it to make a call yesterday morning for nine minutes and fifty-seven seconds.”

That woke Athos up. He sat up in bed which, this time, he was just sharing with one other man, Porthos. “Have they traced it?”

“They're doing it right now,” d'Artagnan informed him. “Said they'll get back to me in the next couple of hours.”

“Great,” Athos almost smiled because the news pleased him so much. At last they were finally getting somewhere. Soon they'd find Emilie and the blasted case would be over. “I'll come into the office. Can you meet me there?”

“Of course,” d'Artagnan responded. “I'm already showered and ready to go.”

“Great, see you soon.”

Athos ended the call. He really did like d'Artagnan.

“You do realise...” came the drowsy voice of his boyfriend in the bed beside him. “...that I can't actually remember the last time we both had an entire weekend off.”

“You don't have to come with me,” Athos pointed out as he pulled back to the covers. “I can go and work on it with d'Artagnan.”

“Good, great idea,” Porthos mumbled and rolled over onto his other side. Athos suspected that, once Porthos had woken up fully, he'd be more annoyed at Athos for once again dropping their time off together to go into work but Porthos was falling back to sleep so Athos took the opportunity to escape.

When Athos got downstairs Aramis, unlike Porthos, was wide awake and reading a book. Athos wondered if Aramis' nightmares were making it difficult for him to sleep but he didn't linger to ask, he wanted to get into the office as soon as possible. So he left Aramis reading his book and Porthos sleeping upstairs and found a very excited d'Artagnan, full of energy as always even on a Sunday morning, waiting for him.

“Not heard yet. Still waiting,” d'Artagnan briefed. “At least we've got a lead, huh? This is good right?”

Athos nodded. Seeing d'Artagnan again momentarily reminded Athos of the events which had occurred on Friday evening but then he tried to brush aside the memory and shame of 'falling off the wagon' to concentrate on the case.

“Did they at least give you the number of who she called?”

“Yes,” d'Artagnan said and reached behind for a piece of paper which was on his desk. “It was a number belonging to a Nicola Roux.”

“Emilie's best-friend,” Athos pointed out as he went to sit at his own desk. Nicola was the obnoxious and unhelpful one. “Not much point in contacting her, she won't tell us anything.”

“Maybe Emilie is getting home-sick?” d'Artagnan suggested, coming over to Athos' desk he at least had the sense to perch on Porthos' desk instead which Athos was pleased about because he was briefly distracted by checking that his stationary was in order. “At least this almost definitely rules out anything bad happening to the pair of them. If she turned on her phone and called her best-friend, she's obviously alive.”

Athos nodded and turned his desk light on and off five times.

“Why are we dealing with this?” the young man asked softly. “The chances are they're both fine and they're not doing anything illegal.”

“No,” Athos agreed. “They're not. Immoral yes but illegal no. I'm beginning to wonder if we still need to investigate myself. Is the Captain in?”

D'Artagnan glanced over his shoulder towards the door of Treville's office. “No, I don't think so. I haven't seen him.” 

A phone began to ring and d'Artagnan raced back over to his own desk, he picked it up before sitting down. Athos tried to listen in but d'Artagnan just seemed to be repeating 'okay' over and over so it wasn't very informative. Instead he waited patiently until d'Artagnan put the phone down and came back racing over with another piece of paper in his hand.

“They've traced her mobile to a village called Chamonix which is near the Alps.”

“So they're still in France?” Athos asked, although he already knew the answer to the question because d'Artagnan had just said. D'Artagnan nodded to humour him anyway.

“They've obviously just headed off for a bit of a skiing holiday,” he suggested with a cheeky smile. 

Athos sighed. He had been hoping that Emilie would be somewhere a little closer but they obviously weren't going to be that lucky. At least she was still in France. “It's a whole days drive away. I wonder if I can just call the local law enforcement to see if they can find them. I'll ask the Captain.” He reached over for his phone and found Treville's home number. When he dialed the man himself answered promptly.

“I'm sorry to bother you on a Sunday morning, Captain,” Athos said straight away and really did mean it. 

“You can bother me any time of the day, Athos, you know that,” came the voice on the other end of the phone which helped Athos to feel a little bit better about the intrusion. 

“Emilie has turned her phone on and made a call,” Athos then went on to explain.”The phone company were able to track her location to Chamonix”

“Great,” Treville said. “When are you heading out there?”

Athos gave d'Artagnan a look as the lad stood there rocking himself on his feet and waving his arms back and forth, impatiently waiting to find out what Treville was going to say. 

“Well I was going to suggest that perhaps we don't. It seems like a waste of resources...”

“Athos,” Treville interrupted. “I'm being leaned on by some important people about this case. I know you think it's not our job to sort it out and, to be honest, neither do I but it would greatly please these important people if we did sort it out and pleasing important people makes me very happy because important people make important decisions, especially when it comes to budget cuts.”

Athos rubbed his forehead, knowing what was about to come. “So you want me to go out there?”

“Yes, you and Porthos go. Constance and d'Artagnan can stay in Paris, I've been asked if we can assist on a complex murder case so I'll get them on that.”

Athos wanted the complex murder case because Athos much preferred complex murder cases to cheating husbands running off with their students but he had the sense not to express that particular thought to his boss.

“And what would you like us to do if we do find them?” He attempted instead. “We can't arrest them and we can't force them to come back.”

“Try your hand at relationship counselling. Take pictures of his children with you and make them feel guilty.”

Athos rolled his eyes and shook his head. His even-temper was starting to wear a little thin. “This is an absolute waste of time and resources and...”

“Athos, if you do this for me then I will be very grateful. Think of it as a holiday. You and Porthos can stay in a hotel, get room-service and charge me for your omelettes.”

Athos began to realise that he wasn't going to get out of it. There was only one person in the office who was more stubborn than Athos himself and that was Treville. Still there was a slight problem; if Athos and Porthos had to go off for a few days then what about Aramis? They couldn't leave Aramis behind. The man didn't seem to cope too well being in his own and Athos had a horrible feeling that, if they left Aramis behind, then Aramis wouldn't still be there when they got back.

Athos headed back home soon after the phone-call ended and was thinking about the problem the entire journey. There was only one logical solution really, he eventually decided. When he let himself back into the house Porthos was in the kitchen unloading the dishwasher but Aramis didn't seem to be around.

“You're back,” Porthos said when he turned from the dishwasher to smile. “That was quick. Knowing you like I do, I thought you'd be gone for the whole day playing policemen with d'Artagnan.” Porthos obviously noticed the expression on Athos' face because his next word was, “What?”

Athos let out a long sigh. “How do you feel about paying a visit to the Alps?”

Porthos squinted as if he was trying to figure out if the question was a trick. “Well, considering we haven't been on vacation ever in our entire relationship, I'm guessing this ain't a sudden romantic invitation on your part. Unless you saw Ninon again?”

“I haven't seen Ninon again. I'm afraid it will be work-related.”

Porthos made a groaning noise and continued tidying up the kitchen. “Why do we have to go to the Alps?”

“Because that's where Emilie and Professor Mounstephen have gone.”

“Are we going after them?” Porthos then asked. 

Athos believed the answer to be rather obvious. “Yes, Porthos, that is the idea.”

“Hmm...what about Aramis?”

Athos stood up straighter. He had been thinking about it an awful lot and was now quite certain that they didn't have any decent options apart from one. “We should take Aramis with us. We'll drive down and book ourselves into a hotel. I've been thinking about it in the car and, actually, it would be good for Aramis. He can go and explore Chamonix by himself. He won't be in any danger down there.”

Porthos thought about it as well then nodded in agreement and smiled. “Yeah, that's true. It'll be a nice break from him to be away from Paris for a couple of days. Paris and Marsac.”

“It may be more than a couple of days if we can't find them,” Athos pointed out, stepping further into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. “It seems Treville wants this handled quickly. He needs to get people off his back and, the sooner we sort it out, the faster we can go back to proper police-work.”

Porthos chuckled. “This is proper police-work, it's a missing persons case. Should we head off today or wait until tomorrow?”

He has changed his tune, Athos thought. It's amazing what the idea of a 'holiday' could do. “Best go today. The phone call was yesterday so we're already a day behind. We could at least drive most of the way today then stay over somewhere and get to Chamonix tomorrow to start asking around.”

“Alright, when Aramis is out of the shower we'll tell him.”

“Tell me what?” asked a new voice in the room. Athos turned to watch as Aramis came down the stairs with wet hair, dressed in some of his new clothes which suited him ridiculously well.

“You tell him,” Porthos prompted Athos with a smile.

Athos wasn't entirely sure how Aramis was going to react and so he felt oddly nervous about the whole thing all of a sudden. “Porthos and I have to go away for a few days.” Aramis' face immediately dropped as he reached the bottom step which made Athos panic so he quickly added... “With you! I mean, you're welcome to come with us.”

“We'd like you to come with us,” Porthos assisted.

“Yes,” Athos agreed with a nod, pleased for the help. “We would like you to come with us. We'll find a hotel somewhere.”

“Okay,” Aramis responded with a smile despite the fact Athos hadn't even mentioned where they were going or why. Perhaps such facts were unimportant to Aramis. Athos had begun to notice that Aramis just seemed to do what everyone else told him to do and rarely questioned anything.

“It's work related,” Athos decided to explain. “So Porthos and I will be quite busy but you can go and explore and do whatever you like really. It's a place called Chamonix which is next to Mont Blanc in the Alps.”

“Are we going now?” Aramis asked.

“We'll have something to eat first,” Porthos informed them both, always remembering food which was helpful because Athos often forgot.

So they ate and they packed. Porthos found a bag for Aramis to pack some clothes into and Athos reminded Aramis about his medication. Worryingly Aramis appeared to be running out which helped Athos remember that they had agreed to get Aramis to a doctor. He made a mental note to book an appointment once they had returned.

Aramis appeared very excited about the trip and was chatting happily away about the Alps and skiing to Porthos, asking lots of questions which Porthos couldn't answer because he'd never skied himself. Athos decided to keep his mouth shut about all of the skiing holidays he had experienced as a child. Whenever he thought about how different his childhood was to Porthos', he had a real sense of guilt about the fact he didn't often take the time to appreciate how lucky he had been. Perhaps because he had never felt lucky due to the bad relationship he had with his parents but, still, in many ways he had been given a world of opportunities which had never been offered to Porthos. He knew that he should at least be grateful for that.

“I always thought that snowboarding looked more cool if I was being honest,” Aramis said as he carried his bag out towards the car, still chattering away. “I reckon it probably hurts a lot less when you fall over as well. I mean you must only fall on your arse or on your stomach. When you fall over skiing, well their limbs seem to fly everywhere when you see it on TV! It must hurt...ouch."

They both listened politely to Aramis as he continued to talk once they had settled in the car. After a while Aramis seemed to quieten down in the back so Athos put the radio on and they all listened to music which then became Aramis' new topic. Whilst Athos appreciated, enjoyed and rather valued silences, Aramis didn't seem to like them very much and he appeared to see it as his duty to fill such moments. Athos suspected it was all to do with Aramis' need to please but Athos didn't mind really, he just half listened and rather hoped that it meant that Aramis was becoming even more comfortable around them.

After quite a bit of driving and a couple of comfort breaks, Porthos pulled up outside a small hotel just off a main-road which Athos had found on his phone whilst in the car. They had vacancies and it was cheap, which Athos suspected would please Treville. Porthos stretched when he got out of the car and Aramis almost bounced out, admiring the drab-looking hotel from the outside with a look of awe on his face.

“Oh this is really nice,” Aramis said, craning his neck to look up at the building. Athos stared up as well to follow his gaze. It was a predicable, chain hotel with nothing really special about it at all apart from a couple of trees outside the main entrance which looked far too well-cut and unnatural to even feel that welcoming. He pondered about what sort of hotels Aramis was used to and then decided that it was best not to think about it.

“Get your bag,” he suggested to the man and Aramis did so obediently. They all walked into the reception area where Athos pondered for a moment, trying to figure out how many rooms they should book. He realised that two would work; on paper it would look like Porthos and Athos had a room each, which was helpful because it would throw off any suspicion about their relationship but, in reality, it would actually mean that Aramis could have his own room. Only, whilst the young man behind the desk began to check them in and Porthos went off to find a bathroom, Aramis slipped forward to stand beside Athos.

“Am I not staying with you?” he asked quietly.

“No,” Athos said as if that was that. He watched the receptionist type away on the keyboard, taking Athos' details down.

“Why not?” Aramis then asked. “That doesn't make sense.”

Athos attempted to keep his voice even as he responded with, “Because you can't.”

“Why not?” Aramis asked again. “I thought we were...” This time Athos turned to him. He didn't really want to be having such a conversation in front of the receptionist so he attempted to look stern.

“Because three grown-men in one hotel room won't work, Aramis,” he whispered sharply, perhaps sounding a little harsher than he had intended. Aramis lowered his head and took a small step away which immediately made Athos feel guilty, he hadn't meant to snap. 

“I mean it's just...it just won't...” Athos stumbled over his words, wondering how he was going to explain that three grown men staying in a hotel room together would look remarkably odd but it was the receptionist who interrupted.

“Actually three people could fit into one of our family rooms,” he pointed out. “There are two double-beds and a single bed.” The young, dark-haired man glanced up at Athos. “We have one available if, you know, you're trying to save money?” 

The kid then smiled and Athos had no-idea what that smile meant. Athos began to have a worrying feeling that perhaps the hotel was used to customers coming for 'unusual' reasons. Athos was about to protest but then he made the mistake of glancing back at Aramis. Aramis was grinning with delight at the idea of sharing a room so Athos knew he didn't have much of a choice if he didn't want to deal with a sulking Aramis.

“Fine,” he gave in. “We'll have a family room then.”

By the time Porthos returned Athos was in a rotten mood and he wasn't even sure why. He marched them all to the room then let them all in. Once inside he placed his bag onto one of the large beds then went around the room inspecting it carefully. It wasn't the cleanest hotel room he had ever stayed in but it was far from the worst and it was spacious at least. In the bathroom he began unwrapping the two bars of complimentary soap and placed them on the sink which was when Porthos came in to join him.

“What happened?” he asked tenderly, pushing the door almost closed. 

“Nothing,” Athos insisted.

“Then why do you look grumpy?” Porthos asked.

“I'm not grumpy!” Athos almost yelled before letting out a long sigh because that was obviously a stupid way to prove his lack of annoyance. Porthos just chuckled and came closer, holding his arms out. Athos didn't want to be held though so he stepped away.

“Hey,” Porthos said with a rejected frown. “What's wrong? Don't be all grumpy with me.”

“I'm not being grumpy with you!” Athos insisted, shouting again which only made Porthos laugh once more and Athos decided that he didn't have the energy to be annoyed anymore over something he wasn't even sure was worth being annoyed about so, when Porthos attempted the hug again, Athos moved into his arms and Porthos wrapped him up tightly.

“What's the matter?” Porthos asked after a moment of silence which had only been broken by Aramis turning the television on in the next room.

“I don't even know,” Athos admitted. “Aramis wanted to share a room with us.”

He could feel Porthos nod on the side of his head. “Yeah. Why does that bother you?”

“I don't know,” Athos admitted and then tried to figure it out. Why had that upset him? He knew that Aramis liked company and liked being around people. Of course Aramis wouldn't have wanted his own hotel room if he could share one with them. Why was that annoying him? Athos couldn't figure it out. “I don't know why.”

“I think I do. I love you, alright?” Porthos said softly. “I really, really love you. That hasn't changed and it never will.” Porthos then pulled away slightly and looked down at Athos. “You and me we're forever, okay? Change is scary I know, but my feelings for you ain't gonna change. Even if we get even closer to Aramis, nothing will change between us two. If anything, my feelings for you are getting stronger and I should tell you that more often.”

Athos nodded a little and then he tried to swallow but he felt like he had something in his throat and his eyes...his eyes were starting to sting. Porthos had hit a nerve, he must have done. Why else would those words mean so much to Athos that it was making his throat tighten? Perhaps that was it, Aramis was now pushing his way into their lives in a way that Athos found a little scary. Nice but scary. None of them had ever really talked about it, it was just happening. Athos' life was changing bit by bit and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. Now it wasn't just two of them in a hotel room, it was three.

Porthos moved forward and pressed his lips against Athos' and Athos moaned. He closed his eyes and kissed Porthos back, his arms automatically wrapping around Porthos and everything felt safe again. They continued to kiss lazily until Porthos pushed Athos up against the sink which made Athos automatically gasp and get a little bit excited, only he was all too aware of the fact Aramis was in the main room and so they couldn't do anything which was frustrating.

He was starting to suspect that Porthos shared his feelings of frustration by the way Porthos' hands seemed slip from Athos' hips down towards his arse where he gave the cheeks a firm squeeze. Then he started to grind his body up against Athos' which was both exceptionally delicious and rather cruel.

“I just wanna turn you around and slip inside you right now,” Porthos then whispered which made Athos groan. He wanted that as well, he wanted it incredibly badly. He was tempted to suggest they just close the door but it felt wrong somehow with Aramis around. Perhaps in future they could all do it together, the three of them. The thought made Athos blush.

“There's a million channels!” Came the voice of Aramis from the main room. It made Porthos smile sheepishly before reluctantly stepping away from Athos and reach down to readjust himself, which Athos could sympathise with. Porthos then seemed to spend a moment composing himself before he opened the door and walked out of the bathroom.

“Is there?” Athos heard Porthos ask. “Find something to watch then. I'll check out what the room-service menu is like.”

Once Athos had always managed to calm himself down he joined them in the bedroom. Aramis was flicking through the channels and Porthos was sitting on the bed reading the menu.

“They have a lot of choice,” Porthos said as Athos came over and perched himself on the same bed. Athos wasn't particularly interested in watching television or eating. After all the time on the road he just wanted to sleep. But he joined in with the room service order and even joined in as they watched some rubbish on TV whilst they ate. Afterwards, however, he really was ready for bed. So he went through his bedtime routine and, once he was out of the bathroom, he found Porthos standing close to Aramis pointing to the bed closest to the window.

“Well, if you sleep in that one then you'll be really near us, won't you?” Porthos was saying.

“Okay,” Aramis responded, looking a little deflated. “If that's what you want.”

Porthos sighed and Athos could see that it wasn't what Porthos wanted at all but Porthos knew that it was the right thing. “It's just for the best, mate. We can't share a bed really, not all three of us, these beds are too small.”

“I understand,” Aramis said with a nod although he didn't much look like he did. “I'll do whatever you like.”

They all settled eventually and the following morning Athos woke up earlier than the other two. He was careful not to wake them as he tip-toed into the bathroom and got into the shower. After a couple of minutes he heard the bathroom door open and a familiar figure appeared on the other side of the glass shower-door.

“Morning,” Porthos whispered, closing the door behind himself quietly. Athos wasn't sure what Porthos was doing, he assumed the man just needed to piss, so he continued to wash himself underneath the pounding hot water until a blast of cold air hit him as the shower-door opened and a naked Porthos came in to join him. Athos moved out of the way because he didn't have much of a choice. 

“There's hardly room,” he protested but Porthos didn't seem bothered by such a thing. He closed the door behind himself and immediately waved a tube of lubrication in Athos' face with a grin. 

“He's still asleep and I can't behave anymore,” Porthos admitted and then kissed the life out of Athos. Athos melted in Porthos' arms and moaned happily against the lips. Porthos' hands weren't behaving at all and they were roaming Athos' wet body, stroking over his skin. Athos gasped when he was suddenly tugged forward and pressed up against the large, warm chest before a sucking mouth and biting teeth attacked his neck. Tilting his head to the side he couldn't suppress the satisfied sigh which escaped. He ran his fingers through Porthos' tight curls and blood rushed between his legs.

It wasn't much longer before Athos was turned around and Porthos was using his wet fingers to open him up whilst Athos' head was spinning with arousal. It felt like a long time since they done such a thing and he knew that he was probably tight but, thankfully, Porthos was always patient and always made sure that Athos wouldn't be hurt. But Athos was soon unashamedly begging because he couldn't stand it any longer, he needed Porthos inside and he needed it that very instant. He reached up to hold onto the white tiles as Porthos slowly pushed in, stretching his muscles. Athos desperately tried to relax and Porthos' soothing hand on his back did help. Soon there was gentle thrusting and Athos felt every part of Porthos inside him, making him gasp each time Porthos pushed deeper. Then Porthos' big hands were on his hips, holding him steady, pulling him back each time Porthos thrust forward and then they were both grunting and gasping, the rhythm was fast and desperate but understandable considering how long it had been since they had last made love.

“Porthos,” Athos moaned, leaning forward he rested his forehead against the cold marble as Porthos pounded into him, rocking his body back and forth. Athos loved it when Porthos took him like he was; strong, powerful but desperately loving. Athos felt like he was just going to explode from all of the overwhelming sensations he was experiencing but it was actually when Porthos snaked his arm around a few minutes later and took Athos in his hand that he really did explode, loudly and dramatically, all over the wall. Porthos continued his steady hammering for another couple of minutes until he slowed, groaned loudly and then finished as well.

Then they both stayed there panting, trying to get air back into their lungs, Athos found that a dopey and contented smile was on his face. Eventually he managed to turn around and he wrapped his arms around Porthos. They both held each other underneath the water for a while until Porthos pointed out the obvious.

“We'd best get out before he wakes up and he wonders where we are.”

Athos agreed although, considering Aramis' usual lack of sleep, he thought it would be a miracle if Aramis wasn't awake already. But they both got out, dried themselves off a little then wrapped towels around their waists. When they opened the door of the bedroom the air in Athos' lungs escaped for a moment; Aramis wasn't there. He looked around the hotel room frantically until he noticed a mop of curls on the other side of the far bed. Aramis was sitting on the floor and Athos breathed a sigh of relief.

“Sorry, the bathroom is free,” Porthos pointed out, unable to wipe the satisfied smile from his face but Aramis didn't move, neither did he say anything. He just continued to sit there with his back to them.

“You alright?” Porthos asked and, once again, no response. “Aramis?” Porthos marched past the beds with the towel around his waist and looked down. Whatever he saw obviously had an impact. “Aramis, what's wrong?” he said before falling down onto his knees and holding his arms out. Athos saw Aramis lift his head and then throw himself into Porthos' arms where he promptly began sobbing. Porthos pulled him in closer and looked over at Athos in despair.

“Mate, what's the matter?” Porthos asked again as he stayed on his knees, holding Aramis against his chest and stroking the crying man's hair. Athos couldn't fathom what would have upset Aramis so much in the safety of the hotel room.

“You'll fuck each other but you won't fuck me,” came the quiet voice of Aramis against Porthos' arm.

“We...oh you heard?” Porthos said sheepishly. “Sorry, I...we...I don't understand what you mean though. Athos is my boyfriend.”

“I want you to like me,” Aramis wheezed, sounding incredibly upset as he lifted up his head and stared up at Porthos with tearful eyes. “I want you both to like me but you won't let me do anything. Athos keeps pushing me away and you push me away but you do things with each other and I don't understand. Did I do something wrong? I thought that's why we were here.”


	17. The Work Trip

Athos began to feel terrible. They shouldn't have had sex with Aramis in the hotel room. It was silly and selfish and yet Athos, and he suspected Porthos, had really needed it. Although now Athos was standing there in nothing but a towel watching helplessly as Aramis cried on the hotel room floor, Athos realise that they really were doing a terrible job of helping Aramis, probably because neither of them really understood how to.

“I promise we do like you,” Porthos tried to assure the man. He reached up and cupped Aramis' tear-stricken face with his large hands. “Having sex with you won't make us like you even more.”

“Yes it will,” Aramis insisted with a slight wobble in his voice. “That's how you make people happy and that's how you get them to to come back, when you're good at it. They always came back to me because I was good at it. Marsac said I was the best.”

“No, mate,” Porthos said, stroking Aramis' cheeks with his thumbs “That's not...urgh how do I explain this?” Porthos sighed then seemed to remember his state of undress. “Look, wait a sec, I need to put some clothes on first and then we'll all have a proper talk because it's long over-due.”

Thank heavens for Porthos. As Porthos got up Athos continued to look at Aramis who just sniffed and dropped his head again. Athos wanted to say something helpful and comforting but really felt completely out of his depth. So he followed Porthos' lead and began to get dressed. By the time he was almost dressed and was busy doing up the buttons of his shirt, Porthos had finished because he'd cheated and put on a sweater. Porthos patted Aramis' bed and Aramis obediently got up and sat down onto it beside him. Athos lingered back and just continued to do up his shirt.

“Right, where do we start?” Porthos pondered as Aramis reached out for a tissue from the box on the beside table to wipe his face now that he had stopped crying. “You like us, don't you?”

Aramis gave a small nod although he was looking down at his lap, not at Porthos. Athos tucked his shirt into his trousers and then wasn't sure what to do. He slowly moved over to the empty double bed and sat himself down on it.

“Well we like you as well,” Porthos continued. “You make us happy just by being around. You don't have to have sex with us in order to make us happy.”

“But you won't want me to stay, not if we're not having sex.”

Porthos raised an eyebrow, baffled by the statement and Athos wasn't sure what to say either. He suddenly wished he had Ninon on speed-dial.

“Well...maybe we will have sex one day, mate, just not yet. There's no rush,” Porthos attempted.

“You two have sex,” Aramis pointed out, mumbling down at his lap. “You had sex in the shower. I heard you. I heard Athos.”

Athos felt his cheeks burning up in embarrassment. He had tried to be quiet, he just had failed quite miserably. Although he was surprised that he had been loud enough for Aramis to have heard.

“Yes because we're in a relationship and we've been together a long time. And maybe you can join us one day,” Porthos offered. “At the moment we like just spending time with you like this. Just talking, hanging-out and getting to know you. You've been through a lot, it's okay to take things slow.”

“But then I can't show you how good I am!” Aramis protested, looking up finally in despair. “I can't show you!”

“That's not important,” Porthos pointed out with an exasperated sigh.

“It is!” Aramis insisted. “It'll make you like me even more and it'll make you happy!”

“We like you anyway!” Porthos snapped which made Aramis frown and Athos rub his forehead. He thought that Porthos was doing a valiant job at trying to explain things to Aramis but Aramis just didn't seem to get it. It was starting to make Athos realise just how confused poor Aramis was after a life-time of being used and abused by everyone. 

Porthos, perhaps feeling bad for his minor outburst, reached out to cup Aramis' cheek with his hand. Aramis immediately pressed his face against it, forgiving in an instant because he clearly craved the contact.

“I'm sorry that we've made things confusing for you. We didn't mean to. But, Aramis, there's so much more to you than your skills in bed. I wish you could understand that.” He then lowered his hand and took hold of Aramis' hands in his, squeezing them tight. “Please don't stress about us liking you or not liking you. We do like you very much. That's why we invited you on this trip, because we didn't want to leave you behind.”

Aramis gave a bit of a nod which Athos hoped was something. “I thought you had invited me because we were going to have sex.”

“What?” Athos said before he could stop himself because he was so shocked. “You thought we invited you here to have sex?”

“Yeah,” Aramis admitted with a nod, turning his dark eyes to look over at him. “I thought, you know, you were taking me to a hotel. I always have sex in hotels.”

“Aramis, we're...working. This is work,” Athos explained. “This isn't a...adult holiday.” Although he began to blush again when he just remembered what had just happened in the shower. “I mean...umm...”

Thankfully Porthos stepped back in to help. “Did you get taken to hotels a lot, Aramis?”

Aramis nodded again. “Yeah before Marsac started the brothels. I didn't mind because I much preferred going to a hotel than doing it outside or in a car. I never used to like going into cars. It was sometimes a bit scary when I wasn't sure where they were taking me and we ended up somewhere away from everything in the dark, you know? But hotels have people and they're warm and cosy.” Aramis smiled as he told them. Athos wasn't exactly sure that he wanted to hear more but, if they were going to understand Aramis...

“I can see why that would be better,” Athos mumbled, trying not to picture it.

“Yeah. I even did a movie in a hotel room once.”

“A m-movie?” Porthos asked although Athos could tell from this face that he insistently regretted it. Aramis though, ever honest about his work-life unlike his personal-life, went on to explain.

“Yup. There were four guys and one had a camera. I was really good that night, they were really pleased with me. I didn't tell Marsac though because he always told me not to let more than one guy fuck me at one time unless I got paid double and I'm not sure I got enough money for four people really. So I didn't tell him.”

Porthos looked visibly upset. Athos could see his eyes welling up so Athos got up and moved to sit on the bed with them. This caused Aramis to twist around a little on the mattress to face him which is what Athos wanted.

“Aramis, listen to me, this is your life now. You do whatever you want to do and don't do whatever you don't want to do. I know that you probably don't understand what I mean but I hope that Porthos and myself can teach you this. And Ninon can help as well when you see her.” Aramis was looking at him but Athos had no-idea how much the man was understanding. Still, it was a start. But there was something pressing on his mind; they weren't there to sleep with Aramis, they were there to find Emilie and the Professor. “We should go eat breakfast then hit the road,” he suggested and got up off the bed, trying himself not to picture Aramis being filmed in similar room with a bunch of men doing whatever they wanted because Aramis was so eager to please them. He wanted to hug Aramis truth be told but Porthos did it for him, reaching out again Porthos pulled Aramis in for a hug.

As they went down into the restaurant for breakfast Porthos spent a lot of time smiling at Aramis and Aramis seemed to come alive under the attention and grinned back. It made Athos think. Aramis obviously enjoyed having attention and he liked it when he was making people happy. Perhaps they could teach him that there were other ways to make people happy and better ways to get attention without it being all about sex.

They eventually got to Chamonix by lunch-time. There was a lot of snow and Athos secretly liked snow although he wasn't sure why. There they all checked into a slightly nicer hotel where, in the new room, Athos got out some pictures of Emilie and Professor Mounstephen which he had brought with them. Aramis came over to stand next to Athos and studied the photographs.

“If I see them, I'll let you know,” Aramis said as he nodded.

“Don't worry about that, mate,” Porthos told him. “That's what Athos and I are here for. You just go out and enjoy yourself. Go shopping or find a nice cafe or something. You want some money? You can buy yourself a hot drink.”

Before even getting an answer Porthos pulled out his wallet and passed Aramis a couple of notes.

“Oh thanks,” Aramis said as he accepted the money with a smile. The whole 'chore' idea had obviously worked because Aramis was putting up less of a fight about being handed money recently.

“Just make sure you're back here before it gets dark,” Porthos then said, playing parent. “Then we all go out and eat somewhere together later, okay?”

“Yup. Can I buy a book with this?” Aramis asked, holding up the money.

Porthos smiled. “Buy whatever you like. Aramis, just don't work.”

Aramis chuckled. “I don't even know this place. How would I find work? See you later.”

Aramis left them alone in the hotel room which was when Porthos muttered worriedly, “I have a feeling he'd find work anywhere. I think work finds him.”

“He'll be fine,” Athos tried to reassure him and they took the photographs and went out to investigate. Chamonix was a friendly place full of people from all over the world there to enjoy skiing and snowboarding. Porthos and Athos spent time visiting some of the local cafes and shops, showing the photographs and asking around. Whilst everyone was happy to look at the pictures, no-one seemed to recognise the pair. 

“I have a horrible feeling we're going to be here for days,” Athos sighed as they trudged through the snow, wishing that he'd remembered to put his boots on because he was slipping all over the place in his black shoes. Not that he minded Porthos constantly reaching out to grab him before he fell over.

“Athos, I said the right things to Aramis earlier right? I didn't really know how to explain it to him.”

“You did a perfect job,” Athos said reassuringly. “As soon as we're back we'll get him to Ninon. Hopefully she can help him see things in a...different way.”

“You don't think that we're confusing stuff for him though, do you? Us both liking him like we do but holding back at the same time. I do worry that he'd just be better off starting afresh somewhere completely new, in control of his own life.”

“Is that what you want?” Athos asked worriedly. 

“No but...I want whatever is best for him.”

“I do as well,” Athos agreed. “But I think he's quite attached to us now, as we are to him. I suspect it'll be very upsetting for him if we suggest he leave.”

“Yeah,” Porthos agreed with a nod and a smile. “I just wanted to check you felt the same. We probably don't talk about it enough.”

Porthos was right of course they didn't yet, thankfully, they did both seem to be on the same page about everything which was helpful. 

They finally had some luck just before they were about to give up for the day. A waiter at a restaurant said that he had served Emilie and Professor Mounstephen a couple of days ago but they never mentioned who they were or where they were staying. He did say that the girl didn't seem overly happy, like perhaps the couple had argued a few moments before. Athos wondered if the romantic notion of running away together was starting to wear off.

By the time they got back to the hotel Aramis was there. He told them that he'd brought a book then spent the afternoon exploring and reading the new book whilst sipping hot chocolate. He seemed very happy about being free to go out and about again. They all went out to eat somewhere quiet and cheap which was when Aramis let something slip about his past. As usual Athos sat and listened quite contently as the other two carried most of the conversation. Porthos had been talking about his tone-deaf singing.

“I used to be a choir boy,” Aramis informed them both with a smile. “It was a Catholic church so I had to wear those angelic choir boy outfits.” 

Porthos perhaps didn't realise the significance of what Aramis had just said, unlike Athos whose brain was now on over-drive. 

“You must have a nice singing voice then?” Porthos said with a smile.

“I used to,” Aramis admitted with a chuckle. “Not sure it was ever as good after I grew up and it broke. I don't really sing much these days.”

“I'm sure it's still...”

“Which church?” Athos interrupted. Aramis looked over at him and suddenly seemed to go shy, looking down at his food and poking the mushrooms with his fork.

“Umm just one in Paris,” he muttered and obviously not wanting to divulge any further information. Athos attempted not to sigh. He had been hoping that he had caught Aramis off-guard but Aramis' walls were back-up. It all rather confirmed the theory in Athos' head though. Aramis was so open about his adult life and he was so open about his grandmother. The only topics which appeared to be 'no go' areas were anything to do with his mother and anything to do with his life right before he ran away. Surely that meant that something bad had happened to him? Surely this pointed to the fact that Anne's theory connecting Aramis to Father Vincent was correct? 

Athos remembered that he had download all those files about Father Vincent which he had yet to read. So, when they got back to the hotel room and the other two found something on TV they wanted to watch, Athos sat on the spare bed and opened up his laptop. Porthos did raise an eyebrow at him but Athos pointed out that it was technically a work trip so Porthos backed-down with a roll of his eyes. Thankfully Aramis had unknowingly assisted Athos on this occasion by curling up against Porthos. Porthos put his arm around Aramis and they both seemed quite content. So Athos continued reading the interview transcripts of the victims.

It wasn't pleasant reading and the first boy didn't mention the names of anyone else who had been abused, he had just said on a couple of occasions that Father Vincent did the same to 'other' boys as well then clammed up whenever the detectives tried to probe further. Athos sat back and a thought suddenly occurred to him...the ages. The first boy who had come forward was twelve, the subsequent boys who had then been interviewed by the police and had given evidence were between the ages of ten and thirteen. During this time, Aramis would have been a little older. Aramis would have been around the age of sixteen and therefore he was already living on the streets. The boys being interviewed might not have even known Aramis.

So Athos continued to be puzzled as to why Anne had suggested that Aramis had been a victim of Father Vincent. Athos was beginning to believe the same, sure, but then Athos had spent a lot of time with Aramis whereas Anne had never met the man. What did Anne know that Athos hadn't figured out yet? Unfortunately Athos had a horrible feeling that the only way he was going to find out was to contact Anne. He decided that he would have to build up the courage for that first and only make attempt at conversation when he had easy access to both stationary and a shower.

By the time Athos had thought it all through both Porthos and Aramis had fallen asleep on the bed together. So Athos got up, turned the TV off, flicked the switch on the bedside light five times and just left them to sleep together. He crawled into the other bed after his night-time rituals were done and went to sleep as well. It felt strange without Porthos right next to him but Porthos was just a couple of metres away so he didn't mind as, like Porthos had said, Aramis appeared to like the company.

The following morning Porthos and Athos got up as early as Athos could force Porthos out of bed to continued their search. Athos wanted to get back to Paris as soon as possible. They left Aramis to get ready in his own time, which felt rather nice. Aramis just had grinned sleepily at them both then promptly dropped his head back onto the pillow. 

Athos' hopes were once again raised when someone else recognised Professor Mounstephen but once again they couldn't provide any further information which wasn't very useful. Yet, short of knocking on every single door of every single chalet which would no doubt take forever, they had no choice but to solider on around the ski-hire shops and food venues.

Porthos called Aramis up at lunch-time to make sure that the man was alright. Aramis seemed quite happy exploring so they left him to it. Mid-afternoon, when Athos had just about had enough, it was Aramis who phoned them asking to meet up. Immediately Athos was worried that something was wrong until Porthos reassured him that Aramis sounded quite calm and happy. So they turned up at a cafe which they'd visited the day before and found Aramis sitting at a table with someone. Not just anyone...with Emilie.

Aramis smiled when they approached and stood up. Emilie with her long hair tied back in a messy pony-tail and young face, turned to look over her shoulder to briefly glance at them, but then seemed embarrassed so looked away.

“I found her having a coffee,” Aramis explained once they had walked over so he sat back into his seat. “I said you were looking for her and that her family were worried. So we talked for a while then she said I could call you.”

Athos was surprised if not flabbergasted but he tried to look neutral as he pulled back one of the chairs and joined them, Porthos doing the same. 

“Everyone is concerned for you,” Porthos said, managing to sound friendly. “Detective Sergeant de la Fere and I were both sent to find you to make sure you were alright.”

“I'm fine,” Emilie mumbled, her eyes only flickering to look at Porthos very briefly.

“Well I can see that,” Porthos pointed out. “But your parents, Emilie, they really need to hear from you. They don't know where you are and they're worried sick.”

“I'm sorry,” Emilie then said and dropped her shoulders lower. 

It was Aramis who spoke next. “Emilie wanted to run away with Mikael but now she realises that maybe it was a mistake. She misses her friends, her family and her studies.”

Athos gave a firm nod, pleased that she understood her error. “Then you should come back,” he suggested, deciding just to get to point.

“I can't,” Emilie whispered. “Mikael will be upset. He wants to stay.”

“Mikael...” Athos repeated rather awkwardly, he has always thought of 'Mikael' as Professor Mounstephen. “...is the father of two children. He needs to face up to his responsibilities.”

Porthos reached out and patted Athos' leg underneath the table which Athos knew was code for 'shut up, darling' so Athos did as he was told.

“Well that's the thing,” Aramis pointed out. “He's about to be the father of a third child.”

That was strange, Athos thought, he couldn't recall Porthos mentioning that Mrs Mounstephen was pregnant with a third child. That made it even worse. How could any man just abandon his pregnant wife to run off with one of his students?

“Ah,” Porthos said. “Emilie, you still need to do what's right for you. Being away from your friends and family whilst having a baby is going to be incredibly difficult.”

Athos was completely lost.

“I know,” Emilie sniffed. “I know. That's why I want to go home. I miss my parents.” She then threw her face into her hands and began to cry. Athos was still confused. Wait, Emilie was the one who was pregnant? Okay, now he had caught up.

“Well that was a bad choice,” Athos pointed out. “You're going to have a married man's baby? That was never going to end well.” 

He got a thump on his leg this time from Porthos' knee and Athos looked over at Porthos who was next to him and shaking his head in despair with his eyes wide-open. Athos wasn't sure what Porthos was upset about, someone had to say something.

“Your parents ain't gonna be angry, Emilie,” Porthos then said, his attention back to the upset young lady. “They're just gonna be happy that you're home.”

Emilie nodded into her hands. 

“We can take you home. And him an' all if he wants to come back. Why don't you tell us where he is?”

“We're renting a chalet up the hill,” she sniffed as he pulled her face away from his hands. “I can take you there but he'll be angry.”

“You don't have to worry about that,” Aramis promised. “Porthos and Athos are policemen, they'll protect you. We all will.”

Athos was suddenly taken back to the day when they had broken into Marsac's house and found Aramis lying unconscious on the floor. They hadn't done a good job of protecting him so it was surprising to hear Aramis' words of confidence in their ability. In fact Athos was so surprised that it took him a few seconds to realise that the others had all stood up and they were all waiting for him.

They all walked for a good thirty minutes through the snow, thankfully Athos had remembered to wear his boots this time, and they eventually got to the chalet where a very ruffled looking Professor Mounstephen was shocked to find policemen turn up at his door but not angry. In fact he invited them in with a bit of a deflated sigh.

“She needs to go home, mate,” Porthos said once they had all sat down on chairs in front of the crackling log-fire. Professor Mounstephen was sitting back in an arm-chair. He was in his early 40s but looked younger, with scruffy dark hair and thick dark glasses. Handsome perhaps, Athos mused, which was probably why Emilie had fallen for him.

“I know,” he said. “I know she wants to.”

“Then you gotta let her,” Porthos encouraged. Emilie was sitting beside Aramis, rubbing at her pregnant stomach nervously. Aramis had reached out and put a supportive hand on her arm.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” the Professor then said. “I knew that if the press had found out that I'd cheated on my wife it would be in all the papers because of my brother. I didn't want Emilie to have to go through all of that...or my wife.”

“You'd be the subjects of Paris gossip for five minutes then something else will happen and people will get bored of your story,” Porthos explained. “Look, mate, I ain't gonna tell you what to do but you still have a wife and two kids back home and now Emilie is pregnant. You have a lot of responsibilities but you can't just ignore one for the other.”

“And running away doesn't help,” Aramis suddenly chimed in. “Running away doesn't fix everything.”

The Professor nodded, seemingly agreeing with them both.

“You can still both be together if that's what you want,” Porthos pointed out. “But you gotta sort things out with your wife, mate, leave her properly if that's what you want to do. You owe her that much at least. And what about your other kids? None of this is their fault, they still deserve a father.”

And so the conversation went on and Athos sat there and let Porthos and Aramis be the voices of reason because they were doing such a good job of it eventually even talking them around and making them both decide that they did want to go back to Paris. 

That was when Athos stepped in to make some logical decisions. He suggested that, to be on the safe side, they all split up. The last thing he wanted was Emilie and the Professor in a car alone together where they could suddenly change their minds. So Athos offered to go in Professor Mounstephen's car and Emilie would head back with the other two. Before they got into the cars Athos managed to catch a moment alone with Aramis.

“You really helped us out, thank you,” he pointed out with gratitude. 

Aramis' face lit up momentarily. “I did?” 

“Yes you did. You found her, didn't you? I really appreciate it,” Athos patted Aramis on the arm and left Aramis standing there smiling at himself.

On the journey home they didn't stop over anywhere, they all drove the whole six hours with just a couple of comfort breaks until they were back in Paris. Despite Athos' personal thoughts about the Professor's behaviour he did prove to be interesting to talk to; they shared an interest in politics and discussed that for most of the journey home. 

Athos then stood on the pavement as the Professor went back home. His wife clearly didn't know if she wanted to hit him or hug him. She went for the latter because, Athos suspected, the children were around. He left them to their marital issues and waited for Porthos to come and pick him up.

By the time they all got home they were all exhausted, so much so that they all just fell into their respective beds, Aramis not even putting up a fight about being alone on the sofa-bed. After a few hours Athos woke up and groggily checked his phone. He noticed that he had a voice-mail message so raised the phone to his ear and listened to Constance talking frantically at him.

“Where are you?...Athos, fucking pick up....Athos, when you get his message call me back, something has happened. Phillipe Roche has gone missing. He's just vanished, Athos. I don't think it's anything suspicious, I reckon he's legged it off to New York but no-one can find him. The prosecution attorney is now frantic because she was relying on his evidence against Marsac. She was relying on Phillipe to take the stand. Athos...she wants Aramis to do it. She needs him to testify against Marsac. Call me when you get this message.”


	18. The Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Thank you for all the kudos and comments! This story was meant to be a quick fill before I began part two of some of my other stories and now this one is turning into an epic itself so I'm glad it's being enjoyed because I'm enjoying writing it.]

Athos still had his phone in his hand when he glanced over at the alarm clock on the beside table. It was now early afternoon so perhaps Constance was at the station. Surely they could find Phillipe? But then the drug-dealer wouldn't have vanished if he was still willing to testify against Marsac. Little bastard; they had cut him a deal and everything.

Getting up Athos walked quickly into the bathroom as his anxiety level was rising and he needed to wash. He was about to turn the light on when he remembered that it was in fact the middle of the day and there was enough light coming in through the window despite the clouds in the sky. His intention had been to wash his hands once but he was so distracted by his thoughts that he ended up washing them the usual five times. Once he patted his hands dry he found himself staring in the mirror for a while. There was no-way Aramis would agree to testify against Marsac and Athos had no desire to talk him into it. Would the case really fall apart without Aramis taking the stand? Would Marsac be let off? Surely not.

Deciding that there was no point in speculating without first speaking to the lawyer, Athos managed to calm himself down. He also knew that there was no point in telling Aramis at such an early stage. Pleased with the decisions he had come to using his inner dialogue, Athos headed back out into the hallway and did debate waking Porthos up but then decided to tip-toe down the stairs because he needed a glass of water. Entering the living-room area first, he saw the outline of Aramis' sleeping from on the sofa-bed and it caused Athos to pause. Aramis had been sleeping better recently, perhaps the nightmares no longer haunted him.

Athos silently walked over, his bare feet sinking into the soft carpet. He was unsure what was driving him towards Aramis but he went with the feeling until he was standing beside the bed. The worry of Aramis suddenly waking up and seeing a dark figure looming over him caused Athos to sit down gently at the edge of the bed, the side which Aramis was facing in his sleep. Aramis looked so at peace that it made Athos smile. He reached out and brushed some of Aramis' hair off his forehead carefully, trying not to wake the man. Athos had the urge to lean forward and kiss Aramis' forehead so he once again went along with the desire and did so. Leaning forward as slowly as his back could manage, he gently pressed his lips against the warm skin of Aramis' forehead and gave him a tender kiss.

I won't make you stand up in court, Athos promised silently in his head. I won't put you through that, not if I can help it. 

Then Athos sat there for a while feeling quite content just watching Aramis sleep.

“Feel like I've been asleep for fucking years.”

Athos jumped a mile when he heard the voice. His eyes quickly darted over to where Porthos was thumping down the stairs as he stretched and yawned. Hoping that Porthos hadn't seen him sitting there with Aramis, Athos immediately stood up and pretend to be...doing something, although he wasn't sure what. Thankfully Porthos didn't even look at him as he strolled past into the kitchen area and turned the kettle on with another loud and long yawn. Athos bravely glanced back over his shoulder to discover that Aramis was scrunching his face up in a way that was really quite adorable as he began to wake up. So Athos took a few steps away quickly. Aramis didn't need to know what Athos had just been doing.

“We need to go to the office,” Athos said when he reached the kitchen where Porthos was scratching at his beard.

“No we don't,” Porthos replied promptly and pulled a couple of mugs down from the cupboard. 

“Yes we do,” Athos responded firmly. “Constance left a message on my phone.”

“Ah tell Constance to give us a break, would ya? We just got back from bloody Chamonix. It's a long-way. I think we deserve an afternoon off.”

Athos sighed. He couldn't properly explain to Porthos what was going on when Aramis was in the room and could overhear. In fact at that moment Aramis spoke groggily from his bed.

“What time is it?” he asked which caused Athos to look over at him. Aramis was sitting up and appeared very bleary-eyed and confused.

Athos glanced up at the clock on the wall. “Six minutes past one in the afternoon,” Athos informed him, because he liked to be precise. The information, however, just seemed to cause Aramis to sigh and drop his head back onto the bed.

“Well I'm going into work,” Athos then informed Porthos, hoping that Porthos would agree to come. “First I need to shower.”

“Okay then,” was the response he got from his boyfriend which made Athos a little mad. Sometimes he did wish that Porthos' attitude towards work was as serious as his own. But he left Porthos in the kitchen making coffee as he went back upstairs to wash. 

When he came back downstairs a little while later, clean and ready to leave, Aramis was still snoozing and Porthos was sitting at the kitchen table sipping more coffee and reading a paper in his underwear, which Athos assumed meant that he wasn't going to accompany Athos after all. Athos huffed but said nothing as he left for the station alone.

The first significant thing which happened once he had reached the station was that he bumped into Ninon who was walking in the opposite direction down the corridor looking effortlessly elegant as always.

“Athos!” she said cheerfully, stopping in front of him which forced Athos to do the same. “I just sent you an email but of course I'll see him. I've sent you a couple of suggestions about appointment times. Hopefully one of them will work for Aramis, if not let me know.”

It took Athos' brain a few seconds to catch up before remembering that he had indeed been efficient and had sent Ninon an email a couple of days ago. Had it only been a couple of days? It felt like weeks. Once he realised what she was talking about he was relieved. They really did need to get Aramis to Ninon.

“Wonderful, thank you,” he said, smiling as much as he could, then moved to walk past her. 

“Athos, are you alright?” she asked which made Athos turn back to look over his shoulder. How could she tell he was stressed? He had smiled and everything.

“Yes, fine, thank you, just busy,” he explained then continued to walk off.

“Don't work too hard!” she called after him. 

Seeing Ninon reminded Athos that they also needed to get Aramis to a doctor so he called up the doctor's surgery which he belonged to, although rarely went to, as soon as he was at his desk. They didn't seem overly keen to see someone who hadn't officially signed up to the surgery so Athos lied a little, said that he was a policeman and this was a key witness who needed to be seen as quickly as possibly. Funnily enough that meant they suddenly had a free appointment the following day which Athos thanked them for. 

Then he sat back in his seat and surveyed the large open plan office which all of the detectives in the station shared. The office seemed oddly empty, Constance and d'Artagnan were no-where in sight, probably busy dealing with the complex murder case which Athos so desperately wanted. So he opened his outlook and went through the emails until he heard an angry voice booming from Treville's office despite the fact the door was closed. Athos waited until the shouting of their Captain subsided before getting up and going over to the office. He knocked on the door and, although there was no response, he opened it up. Treville was standing up and still on the phone but he looked across and waved Athos in. So Athos did as he was told and waited standing in front of the desk.

“...Well, as I keep telling you, he's busy today on a serious assault case because, you know, that's what my detectives do. So if you really want to waste his time by pulling him up on the fact he forgot to sign some equipment back in, you do that. You take him off solving an important case to be petty about paperwork but please don't be under the impression that I agree with the way you handle things.” With that Treville slammed the phone down. “Bloody paper-pushers,” he muttered and then sat down in his chair finally, shoving a file off his keyboard in anger.

“Athos, what can I do for you?” Treville then said, sounding a little calmer.

“Well...” Athos swung his arms behind his back and clasp his hands together. “We brought Emilie and the Professor home so the case is closed as far as I'm concerned. This means that both Porthos and myself are free.”

“Good,” Treville gave him a firm and appreciative nod. “We're overloaded with work right now. Let me think what I can get you two on...”

Treville seemed to stare at his rather alarming pile of paperwork for a moment, deep in thought. Athos knew not to interrupt him so he waited. Being in the Special Investigation Team meant that they took on the special cases. The cases perhaps too big for the other detective's to handle or cases that the other detective's were struggling with. Treville seemed to eventually come up with something.

“I know. Lambert and Dufour came to me yesterday because they're working a couple of cases right now and they've hit a brick wall with one of them...which was probably an unfortunately choice of wording on my part as it's a hit and run. Perhaps you two could pick up it up and help out? I don't want to drop it, a child was injured. He survived but he's still in a serious condition from what I understand. Go chat to Lambert, he'll fill you in. Say I asked you to assist.”

Athos nodded and paused for a moment, wondering if he should talk to Treville about Philiipe Roche and the Aramis situation.

“Athos...was there something else?” Treville asked, obviously noticing Athos' hesitation to leave. Athos was close to saying something when he realised that Treville may begin to ask questions about Aramis, questions that Athos wasn't sure he was ready to answer yet.

“No, nothing, Captain,” Athos said and then left the office. Lambert was out so Athos read as much as possible about the hit-and-run on the police system but it was Constance and d'Artagnan who returned first. Athos sat up in his seat as Constance came over.

“Did you get my phone message?” was the first thing Constance asked. 

“Yes. I need to speak to the prosecuting lawyer. Aramis won't take the stand.”

Constance sighed and pulled back Porthos' seat to sit down. “I'll get her number for you. But I think she's worried because they were relying on Phillipe and his evidence to connect Marsac to the drugs. Without that, all they have is Marsac admitting to the brothels when you interviewed him and the attempted murder of Aramis.”

“Which is still a lot and Porthos and I can both take the stand as witnesses in the attempted murder. We found Aramis on the floor with Marsac over him. His injuries should be evidence enough.” Constance remained silent which caused Athos to sigh. “They want to get him for the drugs, don't they? He'll get more time. But Aramis doesn't even know much about that.”

“Chat to the lawyers, Athos, see what they have to say.”

“I will,” Athos said abruptly and frowned as he turned back to his computer.

“Alright, don't get all grumpy with me, I'm just the messenger,” Constance then muttered and Athos slowly turned to look at her, watching her fold her arms. He wondered if her and Porthos had formed some sort of 'stop Athos from being grumpy' conspiracy. 

“If I wish to be grumpy, I will be...” he began but didn't finish because d'Artagnan interrupted them, bounding over with a smile.

“Athos! How was Chamonix?”

“Cold,” Athos informed him, briefly turning his gaze from Constance to d'Artagnan then back to his computer but that didn't seem to deter the young man.

“You found them though? I mean you're back here so I'm assuming...”

“Yes. They are both back in Paris.”

“Wow, good job,” d'Artagnan encouraged. “Constance and I are on this murder case. It's crazy, you see...”

“No!” Constance suddenly yelled which made Athos jump. “Don't tell him. You tell Athos things, he gets interested and then he takes over.”

“I do not,” Athos protested as Constance got off the chair. 

“Yes you do,” she said but she was smiling sweetly at him. “Come on, d'Artagnan.”

D'Artagnan nodded obediently but appeared to wait until Constance was a few steps away before leaning forward and whispering to Athos. “A twin was murdered and we suspect that the other twin then took his identity...”

“D'Artagnan!” Constance screamed which made d'Artagnan jump and he scurried off. Athos frowned even more. He wanted the murder case although the hit and run was just as important but, as Lambert and Dufour had rudely not turned up in the past five minutes, Athos' patience was beginning to wear thin so he found Lambert's number and called him up. Lambert answered and seemed relieved that Athos and Porthos had been put on the case. They'd been investigating for the past two weeks and were struggling with it. They both agreed to meet first thing the following morning to review the case and officially hand it over.

Satisfied that he had actually done some work, Athos then opened Ninon's email and read the days and times she had suggested. He emailed her back with thanks and said that they'd bring Aramis in on Thursday.

So, new case, doctors, Ninon...everything was organised. Athos liked it when everything was organised. Constance soon reappeared with a pink post-it note in her hand. 

“The lawyer's number, her name is Anne.” Anne? Why was everyone called Anne? Constance obviously saw the frown on his face because she then added, “It's not your ex! She sounds nice...posh but nice. How is Aramis?”

Athos was rather taken back by the question but tried to play it cool.

“He's fine. He's settling in well.”

“Good,” Constance said with a smile. “He's a sweet-heart but we are going to have to talk about the dog at some stage. I did promise my house-mate it would only be for a couple of weeks.”

Athos nodded, the blasted dog. “I understand. I'll have a think about the issue.”

“Well it's not really an issue...” Constance suddenly said. “I mean we both adore Frodo, it's just difficult with us both doing shift-work and...”

“I'll sort it out,” Athos interrupted and promised. 

“You are grumpy today,” Constance then mumbled with a pout and walked off back towards d'Artagnan.

“I'm not....” Athos watched her go and sighed. “...grumpy.” What was it with everyone recently? However, now that he was grumpy about the fact everyone was accusing him of being grumpy, he decided to go home early. There wasn't much he could do before they had the case handed over anyway which meant he had time to read more of the Father Vincent files back at home.

When he got back to the house Porthos was pottering around the kitchen preparing dinner but Aramis was no-where in sight.

“Where is he?” he immediately asked as he joined Porthos in the kitchen. Porthos, who didn't appear to have realised that Athos was home, suddenly turned around and smiled for a split-second before his smile faded.

“He's in our bed. He had another bloody fit.”

“A fit?!” Athos was surprised. “Why didn't you call me?”

“Oh it didn't last very long,” Porthos explained. “He was upstairs and I heard a bang, went up and thankfully he hadn't locked the bathroom door. He was on the floor fitting but it only went on for a couple of minutes then it stopped. He was tired again though so I've left him resting in our bed. We need to get him to a doctor.”

Athos nodded. “I already booked an appointment. Tomorrow we need to get to the office at 9'o'clock sharp to meet Lambert and Dufour and talk to them about a hit and run case which we'll be taking over. We may have to take Aramis with us because his appointment is at 10:40am so you won't have time to come back here to pick him up first. He can come with us and then you can take him straight over to the doctors. Then he has an appointment with Ninon the day after.”

“Wait, me?” Porthos asked with a slight chuckle. “I've arranged to have lunch with Charon tomorrow. I know it hasn't been that long since I last saw him but I'm hoping he has been asking around for me. It'll be good to find out if Aramis' name is being mentioned in connection to Marsac going down. We can't keep him in the house forever.”

Athos paused and processed what Porthos had just told him. It would indeed be helpful if they could relax a little when it came to Aramis leaving the house but doctor's usually ran late, it would be pressing on Porthos' time.

“Fine,” he concluded. “I'll take Aramis to the doctors but I'm having the car.”

“Sure thing, love,” Porthos said with a smile then turned back to continue cooking dinner. “It's gonna be ready in a few minutes. Why don't you go and check on Aramis? See if he wants to eat with us.”

Athos nodded and went to rearrange the chairs around the dining-room table quickly because they were slightly crooked and it was driving him mad. Once the chairs were sorted he went upstairs and peeked his head into their bedroom. Aramis was lying topless on his side. The duvet coming up to his waist which meant Athos had no-idea if the man actually had any clothes on. The thought of Aramis being naked did funny things to his stomach but he tried to ignore the feeling which seemed completely inappropriate given the circumstances. He quickly went into the room which was pretty dark so he turned the bedside lamp on and off five times which appeared to wake Aramis up. He scrunched up his face and then blinked his eyes open. 

Athos slowly sat down onto the bed and waited for Aramis' eyes to focus on him. Aramis slowly began to smile.

“You're home,” he whispered quietly then curled up a little more, rubbing his cheek against the pillow.

“Yes,” Aramis nodded. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Aramis said then yawned against the pillow. “I'm fine.”

Athos realised that it was a good moment to bring up Aramis' new itinerary because he had Aramis' full attention. “I have booked you an appointment at the doctor's tomorrow morning, so you'll have to come into the station with us then I'll drop you back home once you're done. Then the day after you can go and see Ninon if you still wish to.”

Whilst he hadn't phrased it as a question he had been expecting some sort of a response, however, Aramis didn't appear to be paying a whole lot of attention. His eyes had closed and Athos wondered briefly if he had fallen back to sleep but then his eyes seemed to slowly open again and he moved backwards on the bed. 

“Come and lie with me,” he requested, lifting his arm to pat the bed beside him. Athos paused, wondering if he should be crawling into bed with the man but it wasn't like he hadn't shared a bed with Aramis before. So, despite the fact he was still wearing smart trousers and a clean white shirt, he moved to lie down onto the bed beside Aramis. The action made Aramis grin wildly and, the second Athos was lying down and facing him, Aramis reached up and rested his arm across Athos'. He seemed to stare at Athos for a while, just studying his face before fingers began to stroke Athos' hair.

Athos felt a little uncomfortable being stared at so intensely but Aramis' face was one of such gentle fascination that he remained still.

“You're very handsome,” Aramis whispered with a smile. “Do you know that?”

Athos wasn't sure how to respond to the compliment. He had never really thought of himself as handsome; he generally just noticed his scars and worry lines in the mirror. His hesitation and embarrassment only seemed to cause Aramis to chuckle with fondness. Aramis, it appeared, was in a very good mood despite his fit. 

“Porthos wanted me to see if you were hungry,” Athos said, shifting his hips on the bed, unable to ignore the fact that being so close to a topless Aramis was getting his body a little excited. 

“I'm very hungry, you have no-idea,” Aramis pointed out with about as much innuendo as Athos had ever heard from anyone's lips. The intention behind his words was confirmed when Aramis lifted himself up to lean over Athos, staring down at him still as he stroked some more of his hair back. 

“Aramis...” Athos whispered, attempting to warn the man that they shouldn't but his warning was cut off by soft lips pressing against his own and Athos closed his eyes, accepting the mouth and the tongue which came with it, slipping inside and exploring with eagerness. Then Aramis moved and soon his warm body appeared to be crawling out from the duvet and clambering on top of Athos. Athos reached up and placed his hands on the wiggling hips, which were thankfully covered in clothing of some sort, as Aramis continued to kiss the life out of him. Aramis was a good kisser, terribly good. He teased one moment with his lips dancing against Athos' then pressed harder and slipped his tongue inside which made Athos shiver. 

Aramis eventually pulled his lips away only to nibble on Athos' jaw. Athos tilted his head to the side slightly to give Aramis better access but there was some sort of sense still in his brain which was telling him that they were behaving badly. 

“Porthos...” Athos managed to whisper out, just before Aramis managed to push his arm between their grinding bodies and squeeze Athos' growing erection with his hand. This caused Athos to gasp and involuntarily thrust his hips up.

“It's okay,” Aramis whispered against his ear before licking then taking Athos' earlobe between his teeth.

“No,” Athos said, because it wasn't okay. Porthos wasn't there and it felt wrong. “Not without him...”

Aramis let go of his ear. “But you said I could do this if it was what I really wanted. Well I really want to.” Aramis pulled his hand away which caused Athos to unintentionally whine in disappointment but the hand was replaced by Aramis' hips again. Athos could tell how much Aramis really wanted it by the lump which was now grinding up against his own.

“No,” Athos said again, despite his body screaming for something different he knew that he didn't want to do anything without Porthos' permission.

Aramis seemed to groan in frustration and then his breath tickled Athos' ear once more. “Porthos fucks me all the time when you're not here,” he whispered. 

Athos felt like he had been hit over the head with a brick. Porthos...does what? He immediately pulled his hands away from Aramis' hips and his entire body tensed. Porthos...and Aramis...no, surely not?

Aramis lifted up his head, looking down at Athos, his dark eyes wide. “Fuck...no...I mean...I don't know why I said that.”

Athos suddenly didn't want to be touched. He pushed at Aramis' shoulders, shoving him off and back onto the bed. Then Athos sat up and began breathing rapidly. No, no, Porthos wouldn't....Porthos just wouldn't....

“Athos?” He heard a voice call weakly from beside him. “That wasn't true. I don't know why I said that, fuck I don't know why I said that. I'm sorry, it's not true.”

Athos slowly turned as his chest heaved as his lungs gasped for air. Aramis was sitting there with the guiltiest expression on his face. Athos couldn't even speak, he could barely breathe. He didn't want to believe it. He just couldn't believe it. Aramis appeared to be afraid; his eyes were wide open and all of the colour was draining from his face. “It isn't true. I just wanted you to...I wanted...I'm so sorry.”

Suddenly Aramis darted, twisted around and clambered off the bed before Athos even knew what was happening. Then Aramis raced across the room, flung the door wide-open and disappeared leaving Athos sitting there in the throws of a panic attack. He heard feet thundering down the stairs and then Porthos saying something.

Calm down, Athos ordered himself, calm down. He took in a some long, deep, breaths and closed his eyes to concentrate on stopping the panic attack before it overwhelmed him. It was working, his breathing slowed and he was only brought out of his concentration by the front door slamming and Porthos shouting Aramis' name. A few seconds later Porthos was shouting for Athos instead but Athos wasn't quite up to shouting back. Instead of had to selfishly wait for Porthos to come to him.

“What's going on? Why did Aramis just fling some clothes on then run out?” Porthos asked when he appeared in the doorway but then he obviously saw something because his expression changed from confusion to panic. “Athos? Love?” He darted over onto the bed, crawled across and immediately grabbed Athos' hands. “Alright, love, you breathing for me?”

Athos nodded, he still wasn't able to speak but he had managed to qualm the threatening panic attack. He just needed to concentrate on staying calm for another couple of minutes. Porthos' eyes were full of concern as he breathed with Athos like an expectant father with his pregnant wife, which would have been amusing if Aramis hadn't just stormed out of the house. 

“What happened?” Porthos asked again once Athos really had calmed down. “Why did Aramis leave?”

“He just...we were...” Athos didn't even know where to start. He looked down at his hands which were covered by Porthos' larger ones and found some strength in that. “We were kissing,” he admitted, looking up again. “And we were getting a little carried away, Aramis wanted more. So I said no because I wouldn't do anything without you and Aramis suddenly blurted out that you both have sex all the time whenever I'm not around.”

The shock on Porthos' face said it all. He even sat back. “I...we don't,” Porthos gasped. 

“I know,” Athos assured him because he believed Porthos completely.

“I mean...he and I...we haven't,” Porthos said again. “We've kissed a couple of times but nothing more than that, I promise.”

“I know,” Athos said and then leaned forward, now having to be the reassuring one. “I know that it's not true. But then he panicked about it, admitted that he had lied and suddenly got all scared.”

“Why did he say that?” 

“I don't know, Porthos, I suspect he was trying to seduce me.” 

“We need to go after him,” Porthos said, letting go of Athos' hands and turning to move. “He can't have gone far. Come on.” Then Porthos paused and froze for a moment, slowly he turned back to Athos. “I mean...if you want to? If you don't want to go after him...”

Athos raised an eyebrow. “I want to go after him. I don't understand why he left.”

Porthos smiled and leaned forward, kissing Athos on the forehead. “I suspect the horrified look you probably had on your face was something to do with it, but it wasn't your fault. He shouldn't have said that but we need to talk to him about it. He can't just run each time something gets difficult. Come on.”

Porthos reached out for Athos' hand and Athos took it.


	19. The Dog Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [I'm sorry this chapter is a little shorter than normal but I wanted to get something up and I haven't had the chance to edit the rest. Still, this chapter ends in a nice spot so hopefully that'll tie you over until I can post more :)]

“Where would he have gone?” Athos asked as he attempted to ignore the queasy feeling which hadn't left his stomach since Aramis had stormed out of the house. He tried to think; Aramis wouldn't have gone back to his apartment, surely? The room with a hole in the window was probably being rented out to some other poor, unfortunate, desperate soul by now. Aramis did have one friend which was a possibility. “Mr Mathieu?”

“Yeah maybe,” Porthos said with a nod. “Let's drive around the streets for a bit and, if we don't spot him, we'll head to Mr Mathieu's restaurant. And maybe the brothel?”

“Would he really go back there?” Athos felt horrified at the thought but then everyone there was familiar to Aramis so it was another logical option.

“I dunno,” Porthos shrugged. “It might not even exist anymore since Marsac is locked up but it's worth a look.”

Athos began to wonder if he could have done something differently, reacted differently, anything to have stopped Aramis from leaving. What if they never found him again? What if that moment had been the last moment he ever saw Aramis? He looked down at his phone, wondering if he should try calling Aramis but the first time it had gone straight to answer-machine, in fact he wasn't even sure if Aramis even had his phone on him.

“Let's go to the restaurant,” Porthos said deflated after they'd been driving around for a while. “Then, if he's not there, we should head home. I don't want him to come back and find us not there.”

Athos nodded in agreement but then his phone buzzed against his fingers.

“Is that him?” Porthos immediately asked, pulling over on the side of the road. Athos was disheartened to see Constance's name coming up on his phone until he read the text - _'He's in my living-room. Hurry up!'_

“He's at Constance's house,” Athos said immediately, sitting up in his seat as his heart began to pound in his chest. Porthos promptly did an illegal U-turn which almost had him colliding with another driver whose horn began to angrily beep.

“Well that's a good sign,” Porthos pointed out, seemingly not caring about the near accident. “He clearly wasn't properly running away if he went straight Constance's house.”

Athos did find it strange that Aramis would go to Constance for comfort until something else occurred to him, it wasn't just Constance in the house. “I don't think he went there to see Constance. I suspect he went to get the dog.”

“Oh yeah...shit,” Porthos suddenly sped up and his police driving skills came in handy as he darted around the back-streets, zigged in and out of cars and got them there in no time at all. They raced up to the front door where Porthos knocked hard. It was Constance who answered.

“Oh thank goodness,” she whispered out of the side of her mouth. “I was struggling to keep him here.” She stood back and let them both into the hallway only to then squeeze past and disappear into the living-room.

“Don't freak out, okay?” they heard her say. Athos and Porthos followed her in. Aramis looked up at them in shock before sliding off the sofa which he had been sitting on to wrap his arms around Frodo who was standing at his feet. It broke Athos' heart seeing Aramis so scared.

“I just came to pick up Frodo,” he said quietly. Athos felt a hand squeezing his arm and suddenly realised that Constance was next to him.

“I'll leave you all to it,” Constance said with a sad smile and left the room.

“I...how did you know I was here?” Aramis then asked from his position kneeling on the floor, although Frodo was wagging his tail and didn't seem to mind being clung onto. In fact he nuzzled Aramis' face and gave the man's cheek a happy lick.

Porthos moved into the room but didn't approach Aramis, he stepped to the side and sat down in the armchair. “We aren't angry, mate. We're not even upset. Don't worry, okay?”

Aramis watched Porthos move but then his eyes darted back to Athos. They both stared at each other for a while until it occurred to him that Aramis was obviously waiting for his reaction.

“I'm not angry either, not in the slightest.”

Aramis seemed to relax slightly, his arms loosening on the dog who then attacked Aramis even more with licks.

“Will you sit down and talk to us?” Porthos asked rather pleadingly and Aramis seemed to respond. He pulled his face away from Frodo and climbed back up onto the seat. There was another armchair but Athos decided to go over and sit on the sofa with Aramis, although on the opposite end to give the man some space. 

“I'm sorry I ran, I just...I panicked,” Aramis then said and Porthos leaned forward like he wanted to reach for him but was forcing himself to refrain.

“It's okay,” Porthos said. “I know. Athos told me what happened.”

“I told him it wasn't true!” Aramis suddenly said loudly. “I told him. I'm sorry, I don't even know why I said it.”

“We all say silly things sometimes,” Porthos pointed out. “We all do. But you understand that it could have really affected my relationship with Athos what you said? Athos takes things very seriously.”

“Yes I know,” Aramis said with lots of nods of his head to accompany his words. “I know. As soon as I realised how shocked Athos was, I knew. You both...neither of you...you both say no when the other isn't around. You both do that because you love each other. I understand that, I do.”

There was a moment of silence and Athos began to think about how there was still so much about each other which they needed to learn and figure out. He decided to express his thoughts. “This is new to use as well, Aramis,” Athos pointed out. “Before you came along, it was just Porthos and myself. Having you around, it has changed things for us and we're not really sure what the rules and boundaries are with it yet. That's why we're careful about it. We don't want to upset the other person.”

“Okay,” Aramis nodded. “So you do want me to go?”

“What?” Athos was shocked that would be Aramis' response. “I didn't say that.”

Porthos sighed. “Aramis, no-one wants you to go. You scared us when you ran away, that's all. What's going on in that head of yours right now, mate?”

Aramis sat there for a while and looked down at the dog who was now getting settled at Aramis' feet. “I don't know I just...you're both nice to me and...I don't know why you're so nice to me. I don't know why you want me living with you but I like living with you then I feel bad for liking it because...b-because...” Aramis then seemed to stumble over his words and then he leaned forward, running his fingers through his hair and muttering at the carpet. “...I still miss Marsac and I'm not sure if I'm meant to.”

Athos was surprised at the confession which had come out of Aramis' mouth but then realised that he had no right to be; Marsac had been a huge part of Aramis' life and they hadn't really given Aramis the time or space to express his feelings on the matter. Of course Aramis would be grieving the loss of everything he once knew and the people he once loved. 

“It's okay to miss him,” Athos offered, wishing that Aramis didn't but trying to be understanding about the fact he did. “But do you remember what you told Professor Mounstephen? Running away doesn't help, it doesn't fix everything.”

Aramis nodded slowly then sat back up straight. Frodo, perhaps sensing that Aramis was upset, stood up and placed his chin on Aramis' leg, staring up at the man with big, dark eyes. Aramis reached forward and stroked Frodo's head affectionately. 

“I know. I don't even know where I was running to,” Aramis admitted. 

Athos, thinking about how much Aramis seemed to response to physical contact, began to slide across the sofa to get closer. He then reached out tentatively and placed a hand gently on Aramis' shoulder in an attempt to provide some comfort. The reaction he got was rather unexpected as Aramis suddenly twisted and flung himself at Athos. For a couple of seconds Athos didn't know what to do until his arms naturally slipped around Aramis and he held the man tightly.

“I'm sorry,” Aramis whispered somewhere into Athos' shoulder.

“It's okay,” Athos reassured him, giving him an extra hard squeeze. “I know you just wanted to...” He couldn't finish the sentence, he felt too embarrass to say 'have sex' out loud.

It was Aramis who pulled back and smiled shyly. “Yeah, I did...” he admitted and even chuckled a little. “I'm used to doing it all the time. I'm not used to this...waiting. I don't understand why we're waiting. You keep telling me but I still don't understand.”

It was then that Porthos appeared standing in front of them and shoved Aramis' leg with his knee. Aramis moved over, pushing closer to Athos so Porthos could sit on the other side.

“Well...maybe we don't need to wait much longer,” Porthos suggested as he sat down. “Because we do really like you. I think Athos and I just concerned that you're trying to sleep with us because you think you should or you're just trying to make us happy.”

Aramis shrugged. “But it's good to make someone happy,” he told Porthos. “And I want to because I like you, I like both of you.” He turned his head back and forth between Porthos and Athos. “I know I'm not very good at this. I've never...this is very different to what I'm used to.”

“I think it's very different to what we're all used to, but that's okay,” Porthos admitted, reaching out and giving Aramis' leg a squeeze. “We can all figure it out between us. I still don't think we need to rush though. Things have happened really fast, we all need time to adjust.”

Aramis seemed to agree with a nod of his head and then leaned into Porthos, resting against his chest and Porthos wrapped his arm around the man, looking just as happy with the contact as Aramis obviously was. In fact Porthos placed a tender kiss on the top of Aramis' head and Athos mused for a moment how wonderfully perfect they both looked together.

“Just don't run again, okay? There's nothing which can't be talked through,” Porthos told the man in his arms.

Aramis nodded against the chest before getting distracted by Frodo walking around. Athos watched the dog for a moment and noted that Frodo seemed a happier to step away from Aramis now that Aramis was being looked after by someone else.

“I'm surprised your allergies haven't started to kick off,” Aramis mumbled and it took Athos a good few seconds to realise that Aramis was talking to him. Allergies? Oh, yeah, allergies. Athos began to feel guilty. Perhaps it was time to confess to that one as well.

“I err...that may have been a little white lie,” he admitted. “Because of my OCD having an animal in the house is...distressing for me.”

Aramis quickly seemed to understand because he 'oooohed' before deciding to try his luck. “He's a very good dog though. Very well behaved and I could wash him every week or more if you want me to. He never jumps on any of the chairs and never has any accidents.”

Frodo appeared to understand what Aramis was trying to do because the dog came back over to them, wagging its tail. In fact the damn thing came and stood right in front of Athos and Athos had no-idea why considering it had never paid him any attention before now. How did it know?

“Stop it,” Athos instructed but the dog ignored his command. It came closer and gently placed its paw onto Athos' knee. “Stop it,” he ordered again, staring into the large, black, pathetic, begging eyes.

\----------------------------------------

“We could put the bed here!” Aramis said, tugging at Porthos' jumper and guiding the man over to the sofa-bed. Porthos was carrying the dog's bed after Constance had packed up all of Frodo's stuff for them. Frodo himself was racing around the room, sniffing everything. Athos was standing there watching the dog feeling, on a stressed-out scale of one to ten, around a twelve point five.

In fact he didn't even notice Porthos come back over until he heard a voice right beside him. 

“It'll be good for you,” Porthos whispered and gave Athos a supportive kiss on the cheek and squeeze of the hand before disappearing back out into the hallway to collect the dog food.

“We need a bigger house,” Athos decided, hearing the tapping noise of Frodo's claws in the kitchen but now felt too afraid to check what the dog was doing just in case the dog was near any of the plates, or bowls, or forks, or spoons, or saucepans....

“This is just a trial period,” Aramis said, obviously noticing how sick Athos looked standing frozen in the middle of the room. “If you can't cope, then I promise we'll find him a good home somewhere else.”

Athos attempted to nod but for some reason none of his muscles would move. He already wasn't coping but he couldn't break Aramis' heart by telling him that so soon. Aramis himself then came over and wrapped his arms around Athos, giving him a comforting squeeze.

“I'm so proud of you,” Aramis said which made Athos feel slightly better. When Aramis pulled away Athos missed the embrace but was too proud to say so. 

“Frodo!” Aramis then cried, falling to his knees and throwing his arms out as the excitable dog bounced back towards him and proceeded to lick him to death. Aramis laughed with joy as he fell to the floor, being wrestled to the ground by the dog. Athos watched in horror, wondering how on earth Aramis could just let the dog lick his face like that. “He will calm down,” Aramis then promised Athos as he began to get back up. “He's just excited.”

Athos hoped so. 

After they had all finally eaten something, not quite the dinner Porthos had originally planned, Athos was ready for bed. Aramis seemed quite excited about staying downstairs as the dog would be sleeping beside his bed. So Athos left them to it and went to use the bathroom. Just as he had finished, Porthos came in and began to brush his teeth. It was in the bedroom, however, that Athos came across a problem. He was standing at the foot of the bed when Porthos came in.

“Are you so tired you can't get in?” Porthos asked with a chuckle as he threw his dirty clothes into the basket.

“There...I think...” Athos began but was obviously taking too long to explain because Porthos butt-in.

“What's the matter?” he asked and came up behind Athos, wrapping his arms around Athos' statue-like form as Athos continued to stare at the bed in horror.

“There's a dog hair on the bed. The dog must have been on the bed.”

Porthos tutted. “No, don't be silly. I doubt Frodo went on the bed. He only came up the stairs for five seconds. The hair probably just got there from our clothes.”

“Our clothes?” Athos whispered and stared down at himself, trying to study the sweat-pants he had put on to wear to bed but Porthos' arms were in the way. He didn't want dog-hairs on his clothes. 

“I'll get it off,” Porthos promised with a kiss to the side of Athos' head.

“There might be more,” Athos pointed out which caused Porthos to sigh.

“I know this is difficult for you,” Porthos said and let go of Athos only to step around so that they were facing each other. “I'm gonna support you through it, okay? I'm not gonna pretend that it's just a dog because I know, to you, this is a huge challenge. I know it is and I'm really proud that you agreed to try because you knew how happy it would make Aramis.”

Porthos pressed a kiss to Athos' forehead and then held him tightly in his arms again. Athos closed his eyes and enjoyed the embrace. Or at least he did until his anxiety stopped him from doing so. 

“Can we change the bed-sheets?” Athos eventually asked. “Just in case.”

“Of course we can,” Porthos said softly and then pulled away from Athos. They both began changing the bed together and it was done in no time. Athos then felt relax enough to crawl underneath the sheets, Porthos soon followed after turning off the light, five times to make Athos happy.

“Can I cuddle you?” Porthos asked. 

“Yes,” Athos said and briefly wondered why Porthos felt like he had to ask. But then Athos realised that he was acting rather up-tight and stressed so perhaps Porthos was just checking. Athos was promptly engulfed by a pair of strong arms and pulled backwards against a warm body which made Athos smile.

“I've been thinking...” Porthos said quietly as his chin nuzzled the back of Athos' hair. “...you were right before. We do need a bigger house. Should we put this one on the market and start looking?”

Athos did agree that the house was too small for three grown men and a dog but to move seemed a little...drastic.

“Do you think Aramis will live with us permanently?” Athos asked. There was a part of him that could envision a future together, the three of them. But there was also another part which just worried Aramis wouldn't ever be-able to properly settle and one day they'd wake up and Aramis would just be gone.

“I don't know,” Porthos admitted. “I don't think Aramis knows what he wants. We just sort of found ourselves in this situation, didn't we? But I think we've both agreed that we don't want to ask him to leave and I'm hoping that he won't want to either, but it's his choice.”

Athos didn't want Aramis to go anywhere but Porthos was right, it was Aramis' choice and in many ways it was their duty to help Aramis understand that he was truly free. Then, if Aramis' new understanding of freedom meant that he left to live somewhere else and be something else, so be it. But, if Athos was being honest with himself, he secretly hoped that Aramis would want to stay with them. 

“We should get the house valued and then see what we can afford,” Athos suggested, always wanting to be prepared. He suspected that he had probably made Porthos smile but he couldn't see. 

“And we need a bigger bed,” Porthos added before yawning.


	20. The Doctor

Athos slept surprisingly well considering his anxiety levels had been through the roof the night before. He woke up promptly two minutes before his alarm was due to go off at seven. Porthos was half awake and making a series of grumpy noises when Athos left him in bed to shower, dress and then head downstairs into the kitchen. By then it was seven-thirty according to the kitchen clock so Athos decided that there was time to warm up some croissants for breakfast as they all had one hour before they would need to leave.

As he was standing in front of the oven wearing his new white shirt and ironed black trousers, something touched his leg. It caused him to jump and he instantly looked down to discover Frodo standing there staring up at him. Athos didn't like the fact the dog was in the kitchen but the idea of touching the dog in order to shove it out of the kitchen made a shiver run down Athos' spine so he decided to just leave the dog there, hoping that it wouldn't sniff him again. 

As he went about making a pot of coffee, Frodo sat and watched. In return Athos half-watched the dog, feeling very wary about its presence. 

“He probably wants to go out,” a dozy voice said and Athos turned to a topless and half-asleep Aramis plodding into the kitchen area. “I'll take him for a walk in a minute.”

A walk? It hadn't occurred to Athos that the dog would need walking. Aramis walking the dog meant that Aramis would have to leave the house...by himself. 

“I'll come,” Athos immediately insisted and then witnessed a dopey smile appear on the tired man's face.

“Okay,” Aramis said just as his small smile turned into a beaming grin. “I'd like that a lot.”

Athos nodded and then turned back to the oven, waiting for the exact second the oven timer was going to tell him that the croissants would be at the perfect temperature. When they were ready he plated them up and placed everything onto the table where Aramis joined him.

“You will need to shower promptly if you wish to do so,” Athos pointed out. “We have to leave at exactly eight-thirty which means you only have fifty-five minutes to eat, wash and take the dog for a walk.”

Aramis glanced across at Athos and opened his mouth to say something but was then distracted by Porthos coming down the stairs.

“I smelt food, food woke me up,” Porthos announced as he came over, ruffling Aramis' hair and then kissing Athos on the head as he walked past them both to sit down at the table. Porthos was also topless; Athos wondered if either of them realised that it was heading towards winter.

“I was just explaining to Aramis that we need to leave at exactly eight-thirty to get there in time for our meeting at nine.”

“Yes, love,” Porthos said, reaching out to grab some breakfast. “We won't make you late.”

“Us late,” Athos corrected him.

Aramis did at least eat quickly. Although he only ate half the amount that Athos thought he probably should before jumping up and heading upstairs into the bathroom. By the time Porthos had finished his breakfast, Aramis was ready for the walk. So Athos wrapped himself up in a coat and scarf then they all headed outside to leave Porthos alone to get ready.

The dog seemed happy enough, darting about from side to side, sniffing every single thing they came across. Aramis appeared to be happy as well, doing his usual talking about nonsense without giving anything away about himself which was always a sure sign of his good mood. Athos just listened because he couldn't have gotten a word in edgeways even if he had tried.

Amazingly they did manage to get to the police station just five minutes late and that was because it took them a while to find a parking spot. Athos was trying his best to concentrate on what Lambert and Dufour were saying but he was also painfully conscious of Aramis who was sitting at Porthos' desk looking around uncomfortably at everything going on around him. Athos had the urge to get Aramis out of the station as fast as possible but Porthos appeared to have developed a deep interest in the case and asked Lambert and Dufour lots of questions. Athos was secretly grateful that Porthos was concentrating because he couldn't stop watching Aramis, feeling his own anxiety rising as he saw the distress in Aramis' eyes every time someone came within a few metres of where he was sitting.

Once their talk with Lambert and Dufour had finished, the two detectives grateful that the Special Investigation Team was taking over the case, Athos and Porthos went back to their desks.

“There must have been a traffic camera somewhere which picked up the car,” Porthos said, giving Aramis a squeeze on the shoulder. “I'll start working on it.”

Athos nodded and noticed that the phone on his desk was flashing a red light at him which meant he had a message.

“We'll get going in a minute,” he told Aramis as he walked past and sat down on his own chair, lifting up the phone he listened to his message.

“Hello Detective Sergeant, this is Anne Mauricia, I'm the prosecuting lawyer in the case against Marsac. I've been told that you're the person I need to speak to in order to get hold of Rene d'Herblay. Perhaps you can call me back? It's really quite urgent. You should already have my number but, just in case, it's...”

Athos looked over at the pink post-it note which was still attached to the corner of his computer screen and made sure that the number Anne was giving him matched the number Constance had written down. It did so Athos deleted the message once it had finished. Constance was right, she did sound posh but also surprisingly gentle for a lawyer. He knew that he'd have to ring her back because she was just going to stalk him otherwise, so he decided to call her after the doctor's appointment. 

“Come on,” he then said to Aramis and got up. Aramis did the same, almost flying out of the chair. His body only seemed to look relaxed once they were outside the station and back in the car.

“You find police stations uncomfortable?” Athos asked, probably stating the obvious.

“I don't have a great track record in them, do I?” Aramis explained then paused for a moment. “I'm usually there because I'm being arrested and, the only time I was in one and not being arrested, I had a fit.”

Athos didn't argue with Aramis' feelings on the matter because Aramis had a point. Whilst it was a work-place for Athos, Aramis' experience of police stations was completely different. A thought suddenly occurred to Athos as he drove.

“Do you find it difficult living with two detectives?” he asked out of curiosity. He could see Aramis shrugging out of the corner of his eye.

“It's strange living with you but not because of what you do. I don't hate policemen, it's important to protect people from all the bad stuff out there. One of my clients was a judge actually.”

The piece of information which Aramis had so casually blurted out made the saliva in Athos' throat go down the wrong pipe and he began to cough.

“Are you okay?” Aramis asked concerned, reaching over he patted the top of Athos' back.

“Fine,” Athos said, once he had stopped choking. Oh how he desperately wanted to find out which judge Aramis was talking about but decided that it was probably a little immoral to ask.

“Every Friday night he turned up,” Aramis went on to explain. “Yeah he was one of my regulars. His wife thought he was playing poker with his friends or something. He was nice. Once we'd finished having sex he just wanted to hold me in bed. So I let him and he just talked, not about anything important really, he mostly liked telling me about all of the places he had travelled to when he was younger and men he had secretly loved through-out his life. He seemed...lonely. Even though he had a wife and grown-up kids he was just lonely.”

Athos paused for a moment before saying, “That's very sad.”

“Yeah it is,” Aramis agreed. “A few men came to visit me like that. Leading a double life I suppose. I'm glad that you and Porthos can live together and love each other in the way you do.”

“Well...” Athos realised that it was probably quite important that he explain the situation to Aramis. “...most of the people at work actually don't know about our relationship but that's more because two people can't work in the same team if they're together in that way. So at the moment we are keeping it quiet. It is perhaps dishonest but I believe it is for the best as we work well together.”

“But Constance knows?” Aramis asked.

“Yes,” Athos admitted. “Constance, her partner d'Artagnan and the Captain know. Most of Porthos' friends who aren't in the police force also know.”

“You both make each other very happy,” Aramis then said and it was definitely more of a statement than a question.  
Athos paused for a moment, pondering what Aramis had just said before realising that, yes, they did indeed seem to although why Porthos put up with him he still had no-idea.

“Why am I going to the doctor?” Aramis then asked, just as they were pulling up in the car-park of the doctor's surgery. The question shocked Athos a little, had he forgotten to mention to Aramis the reason for the trip?

“To reassess your epilepsy medication,” Athos explained, turning off the car engine. “And so the doctor can just check your health in general.”

“Oh, okay.”

Aramis then seemed quite happy to get out of the car and they both walked in. 

The waiting room was close to what Athos suspected hell might be like; everyone had germs. People were coughing, sneezing and generally looking like they were about to throw-up. Athos tried desperately not to touch anything which he didn't have to and he looked longingly over at the alcohol-gel on the wall only to be so worried about catching germs from the dispenser that he was too afraid to use it. He was just starting to feel itchy when a nurse called out the name Rene d'Herblay and Aramis sat up. Athos, after a couple of seconds, remembered that was Aramis' real name and the name he had used to book the appointment.

“Shall I come in with you?” Athos asked, sensing that Aramis didn't seem keen to leave. Aramis quickly nodded at him.

“He's here,” he informed the nurse who had called out the name for a second time. When Athos stood up then Aramis did the same and they both followed the nurse down the hall as she guided them towards the right room. Inside the doctor's office, a man in his late 40s with big eyebrows welcomed them with a friendly smile. Athos and Aramis sat down onto the chairs.

“And what can I do for you both?” the doctor asked.

Athos waited for Aramis to say something but Aramis just sat there staring at the doctor blankly so Athos shuffled forward in the chair to speak on his behalf. 

“Ara...Rene has been having fits more regularly recently. We were wondering if perhaps you could check his medication? And he also needs a general health check.” Athos paused for a moment, slightly hesitant about mentioning the next part but knowing full well that it was important and partly the reason why they were there. “Testing for all sexually transmitted diseases would be very helpful.” 

The doctor nodded and then turned to look at Aramis.

“That's all fine. You'll have to forgive me for not knowing the full details of your medical history, Rene. Obviously I'm not your normal doctor.”

“Aramis,” Athos interrupted. “He actually prefers the name Aramis.”

The doctor did a good job of not looking confused, in fact he just smiled. “Aramis, tell me about your recent fits. How many have you had?”

Aramis, for the first time since they had come into the office, spoke. “I...umm...well I've had two over the past couple of weeks. I guess maybe...five this month.”

“And that's unusual?” the doctor asked.

“Yes,” Aramis said with a nod of his head. “It was getting better. I mean...I hardly had any fits for a while. It was really good.”

“So when did that change? When did they increase again?”

Aramis appeared to think about it for a while. “I don't know. A few months ago.”

The doctor pushed his chair back to look at his computer screen. He read for a while, scrolling down and continued to speak to them at the same time. “Which would co-inside with your medication being reduced. Is that right? Here on your file it says that your last doctor lowered the amount of clobazam and carbamazepine five months ago, do you remember that?”

“Yeah I think so. I remember seeing a doctor.”

“Well then the problem seems obvious,” the doctor said and turned back to them. “It looks like we'll have to put it up again. It's worth trying to lower the amounts once in a while but it was obviously working better before.”

“Why was it lowered?” Athos interjected. He was oblivious to Aramis' medical history himself so it was all new to him. 

“Sometimes it's worth a try,” the doctor explained to Athos. “When it comes to AEDs or anti-epileptic drugs it really is a case of trail and error and every patient responds completely differently to the different drugs. So we initially try a bit of this and a bit of that, add this to that, take something off again until we've discovered what makes the perfect combination for that individual. 

Of course sometimes we never find the right combination and more drastic measures have to be considered but, in Ren...Aramis' case, it looks like the medication and amount he was on previously was proving quite effective at reducing his fits. However, being on medication isn't ideal for anyone long-term so it's good to sometimes lower the amount to see if, perhaps, things have changed and the fits don't come back. Sometimes people can come off the drugs altogether. Unfortunately for Aramis the fits have come back so we'll go back to what he was on before. Maybe we can try reducing it again in a couple of years.”

Athos nodded, satisfied with the explanation even though he would rather there was a way to cure Aramis of the fits altogether.

“Right,” the doctor then continued. “So that's one thing solved. Now, general health-check. You just want to make sure everything is okay, do you? As well as the STI tests?” He was looking at Aramis but Aramis just shrugged.

“Yes,” Athos helped, hoping that he was doing the right thing speaking on Aramis' behalf.

“Maybe you should wait outside for this?” the doctor suggested and Athos was about to protest but then he realised that, actually, he probably should. Aramis was a grown man and whilst Athos had never had any STI tests himself, he knew that some were unpleasant and Aramis probably wouldn't want an audience.

“I'll be in the waiting room,” he told Aramis and then left them to it and went back to sitting in hell for a while. He was just about to yell at a child that seemed incapable of listening to his mother's advice about putting his hand over his mouth when he coughed, when Aramis appeared holding a prescription in his hand.

“Everything alright?” Athos asked as he looked up.

“Yeah,” Aramis nodded. “He said they'll call when the results come back and just said I was a little underweight but nothing to be worried about. Porthos' cooking must be working.” Aramis then smiled and patted his stomach. Athos was relieved that Aramis was smiling and not hitting him for putting him through such an ordeal.

“Good,” Athos then said. “Give me your prescription, I'll get it for you later. Let's get you back home.”

In the car Aramis' behaviour changed. He turned away from Athos and rested his forehead up against the side of the door. Athos glanced over at him wondering why he had curled away like that.

“Aramis, are you alright?” Athos asked but he just received the smallest of nods as a response. Athos wasn't sure what to say. Was Aramis actually upset with him after all? Was Aramis in pain? Athos really didn't know how to approach the whole situation and still was trying to figure it out when he pulled up close to their house. He knew that he wanted to say something, he didn't want to just leave with Aramis being so uncharacteristically quiet. 

“Aramis, what's wrong?” he just asked due to lack of a better question as Aramis at least moved to unbuckle his seat-belt.

“Can I have a key?” Aramis suddenly requested. “You haven't given me a house-key yet. Frodo will need to go for another walk later.”

The thought of Aramis being outside on his own with the dog worried Athos but he also knew that they couldn't keep Aramis locked up in the house forever, not against his will.

“You can have mine for the time-being,” Athos pulled his house-key off the key-chain. “Just don't go further than around the block.”

“Okay,” Aramis said and got out of the car, leaving Athos none the wiser about what the silent treatment had been about. He did debate going after Aramis into the house but work was calling and he already felt bad for missing a couple of hours. However, when Porthos also returned from his lunch with Charon, Athos began to wonder if he'd made the wrong decision not going after Aramis, Porthos certainly seemed to think so. 

“What do you mean he was quiet?” Porthos asked with a raise of his eyebrow.

“He just...stopped speaking in the car. Then only spoke to ask for a key.”

“Why did he stop speaking?”

“I don't know, Porthos, he got out of the car before I had the chance to find out.”

“And you didn't go after him?”

“He didn't want to speak to me, what would be the point?”

Porthos sighed and ran his fingers through his beard, leaning back in his chair. “Oh, Athos...”

Athos wasn't sure why he was being 'oh, Athos'ed' but he soon became distracted by the pink post-it note which was still on his desk. “I need to make a phone-call,” he mumbled, reaching out for the post-it he also picked up his mobile phone. “I'll be right back.” He didn't want Porthos to overhear the call so stepped outside the office into the hallway.

It rang a couple of times before a female voice answered.

“Hello Anne? I'm Detective Sergeant de la Fere, you've been trying to get hold of me.”

“Yes of course!” The voice said. “We need to meet up. I've heard that, if I want to speak to Aramis, I need to go through you.”

“Yes,” Athos stepped closer to the wall to get out of the way of those walking up and down the hallway. “That's correct.”

“Are you free on Monday? Can you come to court house? We can chat over lunch.”

“Monday? Yes I'll come down.”

“Great. I think I'm in court two that morning but you can always ask when you get there. I should be free from midday. See you Monday then.”

Then that was it, Anne hung up and left Athos standing there knowing full well that he needed to talk to Porthos because he should have, in fact, told Porthos ages ago.

Hoping that Porthos wouldn't be upset, Athos walked back into the office where Porthos was sitting at his desk waving his own mobile at Athos.

“I called Aramis. He seems fine. Him and Frodo are watching TV.”

“Good,” Athos said, pleased about that Aramis was okay. “There's something I need to talk to you about.”

He sat at his desk and explained the whole thing. Constance giving him the message and his brief conversation with the lawyer. Porthos listened the entire time and didn't interrupt until the end. Athos was anticipating a bit of a telling off but Porthos seemed distracted by his concerns.

“Aramis won't want to testify. He's still in love with Marsac for fucks sake.”

“I know,” Athos agreed. “He won't be-able to cope with it. I will tell her that but there's no point in worrying until I know the facts. We should wait until Monday and not say anything to Aramis.”

Porthos nodded his agreement. “He needs to move on from his past. We can't push him back there again. I'm not letting him do it, whatever she says. She just needs to do her job and get that bastard locked up.”

Athos, sensing that Porthos was getting rather stressed about the whole thing, decided to change the subject a little. “How did it go with Charon?” 

“Yeah good,” Porthos said and seemed to perk up a little bit. “No-one is talking about Aramis at all. All Charon heard was that the cops brought Marsac down and people are pissed off because they're having to look for drugs elsewhere, that's all. I suspect the only person who can do damage to Aramis is Marsac but maybe Marsac is keeping Aramis' betrayal to himself. Maybe there is still a part of Marsac that is trying to keep Aramis safe.”

That was good news at least, knowing that they could relax their rule about Aramis not leaving the house was going to be a good thing, for the sake of Aramis' boredom and for the sake of Frodo's bladder. They spent the rest of the afternoon visiting the tech team and talking about studying at the traffic camera footage once again and perhaps extending the search to look at cameras a little further from the area of the hit-and-run accident. Once they were done it was getting late. 

“I really would like to visit the boy and his parents but perhaps we should head to the hospital tomorrow?” Athos suggested. “It's almost seven.”

“Yeah,” Porthos agreed. “We can ring the hospital in advance and find out visiting times. Let's get home. I wanna make sure Aramis really is okay.”

They found a late night pharmacy on the way home and picked up Aramis' new prescription. When they eventually back to the house the dog immediately raced out into the hallway and Athos darted behind Porthos to hide from it. Porthos just chuckled and stroked the excited dog but Athos couldn't sort out his coat or shoes until the dog had disappeared, which it eventually did, following Porthos into the living-room. By the time Athos was in the living-room Porthos was standing there with his arms wrapped Aramis, hugging him tightly which immediately made Athos panic. Perhaps Aramis really was upset about something.

“Athos said that you went a bit quiet after you saw the doctor,” Porthos pointed out gently, not loosening his grip on Aramis. 

“Yeah, sorry,” Aramis mumbled against Porthos' shoulder.

“Don't be sorry,” Porthos said and finally pulled back. He noticed Athos watching them and gave him a little smile before turning his attention back to the man in his arms. “You can talk to us about anything, I hope you know that. Why were you upset? Weren't very nice the tests, huh?”

“It wasn't the tests, I've had them before,” Aramis admitted and moved out of Porthos' arms to go back over to the sofa-bed. “I just didn't...” he briefly glanced over at Athos, as if to check how Athos would react. “...I didn't want Athos to bring me back here. I like being here more now Frodo is around and I know why you want me to stay in the house but I don't...I don't like being stuck inside. I'm sorry, I don't mean to complain.”

Porthos followed Aramis over to the bed and they both sat down. “I get why you're going mad being stuck indoors and, actually, we've got some good news about that. I've been asking around and we reckon it's safe for you to head out and about now if you want to. As long as you're careful.”

“What can I do?” Aramis suddenly asked.

“What can you do?” Porthos repeated and sat back a little. “Umm what do you want to do?”

Aramis gave a shrug. “I don't know. You don't want me to work.”

“No, we don't,” Porthos said, very sure about the fact. Athos just watched them both, deciding to stay out of the conversation for the time-being.

“Well I think I should work,” Aramis pointed out. “I want to work.”

“Why would you want to work?” Porthos asked, frowning with confusion.

“Because I'm good at it and I could earn some money.”

“I keep telling you, we don't need the money,” Porthos stood up and began to walk towards the kitchen like he considered the conversation to be over but Athos suspected that it wasn't so he decided to try and help out.

“Aramis, it's dangerous what you did before. There's no need to put yourself in danger again.”

“I don't mind,” Aramis said calmly to Athos. It made Porthos stop whatever he had been about to do and turn back to Aramis. Now they were both standing there staring down at the man.

“You don't mind?” Athos asked, blinking in surprise, rather perplexed as to why Aramis would say such a thing.

“Yeah. I want to do it again.”

Porthos took a step back towards the sofa-bed. “I don't understand. How could you want to do something like that?”

“Why wouldn't I? It was my job.”

Athos sighed, wondering if this was going to be another conversation where none of them understood each other and they all just ended up going around in circles but he was determined to try and get Aramis to see sense. 

“Aramis, do you remember when we first arrested you, do you remember what we spoke about?”

Aramis appeared to think for a few seconds before coming up with his answer. “Marsac?” he offered as a response.

“Yes, but more than that. We talked about how people in your business don't go on to have happy, long lives. They usually end up dead or in jail and now you're telling me that you want to go back to the work which was putting you at risk of one of those two things? I'm sorry, Aramis, but I cannot allow it.”

“I don't know what you want me to do then,” Aramis was frowning and beginning to sound angry. “I can't not do anything forever. You don't pay me to have sex with you, so I'm not working for you.”

Athos' mouth hung open a little. “No, that's not the sort of relationship we...”

Aramis stood up, his fists were clenching as he glared across at Athos. “You said I could do whatever I want now. Well I want to work, I want to earn money.”

“There are other jobs, Aramis,” Porthos interjected from the side of the room.

“But I don't know anything else!” Aramis flung his arms out. “I don't know anything else. I'm good at sex.”

“And where would you work?” Athos asked. “Would you go out onto the streets again? I thought you hated working the streets?”

“I know other brothels. I can find work.”

Athos didn't doubt that Aramis probably could and that was what scared him. Porthos came back over again and sat himself down on the arm of the only remaining chair they could still fit into the living-room with the sofa-bed open. “You really want to go back to that? Go back to being a prostitute?”

Aramis nodded and his arms relaxed, perhaps feeling less aggressive now that Porthos had sat down. “Yes.”

“Why?” Porthos asked gently.

“I can't explain why.”

“Try.”

Aramis took a moment to stare at the wall, clearly thinking about his answer before responding with one Athos didn't consider to be very well thought out at all. “I liked it.”

“You liked it? You like people using your body like that?”

“They weren't using me, they paid me. I like sex and I like people and I like working.”

Aramis seemed to sure of himself but Athos just felt baffled. “Are you honestly telling me that you liked working on a brothel?”

“At least I got paid,” Aramis pointed out and Porthos began to lose his cool again.

“So this is about the money? We can give you fucking money, Aramis, money isn't a problem.”

Aramis' face lit up. “So you will pay me for sex?”

“No,” Athos sighed and couldn't help but place his hand over his face as he began to feel exasperated. “Listen, this is all...you'll have to forgive us, Aramis. Porthos and I see a lot of bad things happening to people who work in brothels and on the streets. We don't want anything bad to happen to you.”

“I know but I'm not good at anything else.”

Porthos stood up from the arm of the chair and went back over to Aramis. Aramis, watching Porthos approaching, sunk back onto the sofa-bed and didn't look too sure as Porthos sat down beside him. But Porthos sounded tender and calm as he spoke. “Who told you that? Have you ever tried something else? Did Marsac tell you that you were no good at anything else?”

“Not just Marsac,” Aramis admitted quietly, leaning back but looking at Porthos.

“Well they were all talking bloody nonsense and you shouldn't listen to them,” Porthos said and reached up to stroke Aramis' hair. Aramis immediately responded and rubbed his temple against Porthos' hand so Porthos continued. “I can promise you'll be good at lots of other things if you tried them. You can already play the guitar, speak Spanish, you're great a helping people so that's three skills you have which I already know about. Now you tell me again that all you're good at is letting strangers use you when you know that isn't true.”

“I don't know now, you're confusing me,” Aramis admitted, staring down at the floor but now leaning into Porthos.

“I don't mean to confuse you and I don't mean to sound angry. I just care about you a lot and it frightens me thinking of you going back to what you were doing before.” Porthos suddenly wrapped his arms around Aramis and pulled the man in for a hug. Aramis didn't seem to mind, he leaned against Porthos' chest.

“It frightens you?” he asked, staring down at the floor.

“Yeah, mate, it does. And it also makes me angry because you deserve to be treated so much better than you were back then.”

“Treated better?”

“Yeah. You deserve to be with someone who cares as much about your pleasure as their own. Someone who cares about how you feel. Someone who loves you.” 

“Marsac loves me,” Aramis pointed out and Athos noticed Porthos tense for a moment before relaxing again.

“No he didn't love you. Well he did...but that's not in the way I mean. I'm talking about real love...when it isn't controlling or one-sided.”

“Aramis,” Athos came over and knelt onto the carpet in front of the man. “Promise us something. Promise us that you won't go out to work until you've seen Ninon tomorrow and spoken to her about it.”

Aramis frowned for a moment but then nodded, his eagerness to please temporarily overcoming his stubbornness. The promise made Athos feel a whole lot better. 

“I'm gonna go and make some late dinner, because we all need to eat,” Porthos then said after giving Aramis a final squeeze and letting the man go. He nodded his head at Athos which was code for 'follow me' so Athos did so and they both headed towards the kitchen area.

“Ninon ain't bloody wonder-woman you know," Porthos whispered out of the side of his mouth.

“I think you'll find she is,” Athos promised reassuringly.


	21. The First Counselling Session

The following morning Athos didn't manage to escape the bed before Porthos grabbed him from behind. Athos made a minor noise of protest but Porthos just increased his hold so Athos quickly gave in and allowed himself to enjoy it with a small smile.

“I miss you,” Porthos mumbled against the back of Athos' shoulder. 

“Miss me?” Athos asked, looking at the wall because he couldn't see his lover. “We're around each other all of the time.”

Porthos grunted and kissed somewhere in-between Athos' bare shoulder-blades. “Not like this though. I miss this.”

Athos began to understand what Porthos meant; alone time together. Time to just hold each other and be with each other. Athos decided that, even though it would make them a little late, he could give Porthos a few minutes of his undivided attention because their relationship should always be his number one priority. He began to move and Porthos whined in protest again until it occurred to Porthos that Athos was just turning around. He loosened his grip to allow Athos the room to do so. Soon they were facing each other and Porthos smiled sleepily. 

“There you are, my gorgeous boyfriend.”

Athos smiled and watched Porthos for a while. The man's eyes were closing again but the smile wasn't leaving his face. Porthos was beautiful; beautiful physically and beautiful as a person. His heart was so big that Athos wasn't entirely sure how it even managed to squeeze into that broad chest. Even though they had been living together for a couple of years, Athos still had absolutely no-idea how he managed to get so lucky. He reached out, longing to touch Porthos more. His fingers stroked Porthos' cheek which caused Porthos to open his eyes again.

“Come here,” Porthos suddenly growled and tugged. Athos found himself before pulling on top of the warm body. He snorted with amusement and then, without giving Porthos the chance to do anything more, he leaned down and kissed Porthos passionately. 

After fumbling, stroking and making a mess over each other's stomachs, they both shared a shower to clean-up then headed downstairs only to discover Frodo had curled up on the sofa-bed against a lump in the duvet which was obviously Aramis. Athos' first reaction was one of absolute horror and Porthos had to physically tug him into the kitchen when his feet refused to move.

“Leave it,” Porthos warned with some amusement in his voice.

“Leave it?” Athos spluttered, attempting to be quiet but his whispering was coming out louder than he intended. “Leave it? The dog is on his bed.”

“I can see that,” Porthos chuckled and then set about making some breakfast. “Don't get stressed.”

“I'm not getting stressed,” Athos argued, standing now in the middle of the kitchen area because his legs still wouldn't move by themselves which was helpful because, if they did, he'd only turn back to stare. The dog was actually on the bed. Sleeping on the bed with its fur and germs and dirt and goodness knows what else. “But the dog is _on_ the bed.”

“I know that, love, I saw,” Porthos responded but only came over to hand Athos the coffee-beans to grind. Athos appreciated it; grinding the coffee-beans did help with with some anxiety-relief although, deep down, he wanted to wash his hands.

“How can he sleep like that? With the dog on the bed like that.”

“Because we're all different,” Porthos explained, turning around to make sure that he was facing Athos. “We both saw last night how Aramis still has a long way to go. His entire identity is caught up in his past. He doesn't think he's worth anything outside of his ability to have sex. It breaks my bloody heart. And he's desperate...desperate for company and comfort and we're probably making it more confusing for him by giving him comfort one minute then making him sleep down here by himself the next. If the dog gives him company whilst we're sleeping upstairs without him...” Porthos paused to shrug. “...it's a good thing. Just whilst we're still figuring it all out.”

Athos had stopped grinding the coffee-beans in the middle of Porthos' speech, wondering where it had come from, marveling at how insightful Porthos was. 

“Ninon will help,” Athos said, trying to reassure Porthos again. “I know you don't realise how wonderful she is, but she really is wonderful.”

“I know she's wonderful.” Porthos turned back to continue making breakfast. “I know how much she helped you. I saw the change in you. I just worry that Aramis has stuff going on which is buried far deeper than we all realise.”

“Perhaps,” Athos agreed. “But Ninon also isn't someone who is going to tackle something which is beyond her skills and abilities. She'll refer him onto someone else if she thinks that's the right thing to do.”

“Yeah I hope so,” Porthos mumbled, opening up a kitchen cupboard. “What's the plan for the morning, Mr Organised? Go to the hospital to meet the boy and then come back and pick up Aramis?”

“Yes that would be best. He isn't meeting Ninon until late morning.”

“Cool, then might as well leave him sleeping. He can make his own breakfast when he wakes up.”

Aramis only began to stir when they were getting ready to leave so Porthos quietly explained to the man on the bed that they'd be back in a couple of hours. Aramis gave Porthos a smile before reaching out to stroke Frodo's head which was when Porthos shoved Athos out of the front door before Athos had the chance to say something.

They called the injured boy's parents and they all agreed to meet at the hospital. Outside in the hallway Athos and Porthos introduced themselves and listened to both the parents and the doctor who explained the situation. They were told that the boy's recovery would be a long process and no-one was really sure what the end result would be. Athos liked the parents, they were trying to remain positive and hopeful for the sake of their son. Once they were updated on the situation, Athos and Porthos popped in to meet the boy. He was a sweet kid. He hadn't spoken since the accident but he spent the whole time they were in the room grinning at Porthos who managed to talk about the boy's favourite subject, Star Wars, for at least fifteen minutes.

Once they were back out in the hallway, the conversation with the parents turned a little more serious.

“We're trying not to focus on the person who did this and just focus on our son,” the boy's mother admitted. “But of course we want justice. Perhaps they accidentally hit him but to drive off and leave a child on the ground like that....”

Her husband wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze. 

“We'll do everything we can to find out who this person was,” Athos promised her. “We've going to put all of our time and resources into this. But I also want to make sure that we're all being realistic with our expectations. Sometimes hit and runs are never solved.”

The mother nodded and the father spoke up. “We appreciate you trying. That's all we ask.”

“The friend he was with at the time...” Athos began to ask. “...his witness statement was limited although I realise he is just a child. I think we may interview him again. Do you know his parents well?”

“Yes quite well,” the mother explained. “They boys have been friends for a while. I know they'd do whatever they can to help.”

Athos nodded having gotten the response he was hoping for. “Good. Then we'll get in contact with them.”

They all said goodbye to each other and Athos marched down the hospital corridor with even more determination than he had coming in.

“I need a board,” he told Porthos. “I need a board and I need different coloured marker pens.”

Porthos chuckled. “That's do-able. Let's go and get Aramis to take him to Ninon first.”

However, when they got to the house, Aramis seemed surprised to see them.

“You're meeting Ninon, remember?” Athos explained, looking down at Aramis who was sitting at the kitchen table reading a book.

“Oh, yes, so I can talk about everything.”

Athos nodded but Aramis didn't seem to move, he remained sitting at the kitchen table. In fact his attention turned back to the book.

“You're seeing her now,” Athos pointed out, wondering why Aramis thought they were standing in the kitchen. “We need to take you to the station.”

“Why is she at the police station?” Aramis asked but continued to avoid Athos' gaze.

“Because that's where she works. She counsels people who work at the police station and victims of crime. Are you...” Athos tipped his head to try and discover what Aramis was reading, wondering why he was so enthralled by it. “...ready to come?”

“I suppose.”

Before Athos had a chance to read the title Aramis sighed loudly and put the book down, folding the page he was on before he closed it. Athos was a little taken back by Aramis' reluctant behaviour so was grateful when Porthos, who had been distracted by filling up the dog's water bowl, began to pay attention again. 

“We're not going to force you, mate, but I reckon it'll be good for you. She's nice. And you wanted to ask her stuff, didn't you?”

Aramis suddenly perked up and sat up-right in the chair. “Oh yes! If I can work, that's right.”

Aramis finally stood and Athos puzzled about what the reluctance had been about. He was beginning to realise that the more time he spent with Aramis the less he seemed to understand him.

“Umm yes,” Athos said, not really wanting to encourage Aramis to ask such a question but knowing that, if Aramis was going to talk to someone about it, Ninon really was the best person. “Come on then.”

“If Ninon says I can work, you will let me, won't you?” Aramis then asked as he followed them towards the coat-rack. Both Athos and Porthos didn't really know how to respond so Athos tried to come up with the best answer possible given the circumstances.

“We'll see how you feel later. We can all talk about it.”

Much to Athos' relief, Aramis seemed satisfied with the answer as he nodded his head then bent down to fetch his boots. Athos silently prayed that Ninon would manage to talk some sense into him, even within the limited time of the session. 

“Did you manage to take the dog out?” Athos asked, wanting to make sure the thing wasn't going to pee on the carpet when they were out.

“Yup,” Aramis answered as he pulled his boots on.

“And did you take your new tablets?”

Aramis' silence said it all.

“Aramis?”

Aramis continued to do his boots up and, when he stood, he smiled sweetly at Athos. “I'll go and do it now.”

The man raced back into the kitchen and Athos turned to look at Porthos with what he hoped was a look of exasperation on his face. Porthos just gave him a helpless shrug. They heard a tap going on briefly and then, after a few seconds, Aramis reappeared.

“Done.”

“Aramis,” Athos said to get his attention as they all headed outside. “It's very important that you regularly stick to taking your medication. Epilepsy is serious. All it takes is for one bad fit and you could be in a coma, or worse. You need to take it daily like the doctor told you to.”

After Athos had finished his very important lecture, Aramis suddenly stopped half-way down the path which caused Athos to almost fall into the back of him. Then Aramis turned, took Athos' face in his hands, tugging him forward and kissed him forcefully on the lips. The shock of the kiss made Athos freeze where he stood for a moment but, when Aramis' lips moved with eagerness, Athos soon melted into the warmth of the man's mouth and the rhythm of his yearning. All too soon though Aramis pulled away, leaving Athos standing there baffled.

“Yes, Athos,” Aramis said, let go of Athos' head and then walked back off down the path. Athos could hear Porthos chuckling; his boyfriend was no help at all. Athos tried to hide his own small smile from them as they walked to the car but he did allow himself to lick at his lips just to taste Aramis again before they all got in. 

At the station they signed Aramis in and then both walked Aramis to Ninon's room. They were a couple of minutes early, thanks to Athos' punctual schedule, so he suggested that they wait in the chairs outside but it wasn't long until Ninon was poking her head out of the door and smiling at them.

“Ah you are here.”

She came out fully, looking as effortlessly beautiful as always in a white shirt and dark blue jeans. Athos, telling himself once again that he absolutely didn't have a school-boy crush, immediately stood up to greet her.

“Good morning,” he said politely. She smiled at him and squeezed his arm as she came round to stand in front of Aramis.

“And you must be Aramis? It's lovely to finally meet you.”

Aramis stood up as well, a little slower than Athos had but he was staring at Ninon like she wasn't what he had been expecting. He didn't seem able to speak either.

“Why don't you come into my room, Aramis, and we'll have a chat. Athos and Porthos will come back and get you in an hour.”

She began to walk back towards her room and Aramis followed. Soon they had both disappeared as the door closed. 

“Well...that was easier than I thought,” Porthos mumbled as they remained standing and staring at the door.

“Indeed,” Athos concurred, although he wasn't quite sure what he had expected Aramis to do. Shaking himself out of his trance, Athos turned to his partner.

“I still need a board, come on.”

Soon they were both back upstairs in the open-plan office where all of the detective's had desks and Athos had acquired a flip-chart which was now standing near his desk. D'Artagnan had joined them and was watching out of 'professional interest' as Athos drew a road across the paper.

“Now, according to the boy's friend in the interview, they were walking home. So let's pretend that the park is on the right and home is on the left.”

Athos drew a house with a chimney to symbolise home and a tree to symbolise a park.

“What's that?” d'Artagnan asked, displaying a confused face.

“A tree,” Athos explained.

D'Artagnan politely kept his mouth-shut.

“So...” Athos continued. “...the boy's were walking in this direction...” His hand moved across the page from right to left.” “...and his friend said that the car came from behind. Now the doctor suggested that the boy was hit on his right side which is why he suffered substantial bruising on that side and a fractured right pelvis. So he was hit, knocked backwards, smashed the back of his head against the car bonnet or windscreen and then was thrown off and probably rolled a few times back onto the pavement which is why he ended up with cuts and bruises all over. So...if he was initially hit on his right side then they must have been walking on this side of the road.”

Athos then drew two stick-figures and nothing more complicated in case d'Artagnan questioned his artistic skills again.

“Which means the car was driving in the same direction they were walking.”

Athos then draw a car...badly. It looked more like a box with a couple of wheels but it would do.

“So the car would have damage to the front left.” He draw a circle on that part of the 'car' to indicate what he was talking about.

“Would it though?” d'Artagnan pipped up. “If the kid is only ten then he'd be pretty light. How much damage would he have made?”

“Some,” Athos said. “Especially if his head hit the windscreen but you are correct, the damage may not have been extensive. Still, it is something to go on.”

“What do you know about the car?” d'Artagnan asked and Porthos, who was sitting down watching with his arms folded, responded.

“Not much. The kid's friend was still very shaken up when they interviewed him the first time. The only thing he remembered was that the car was silver. That's literally it. We're gonna go and talk to him again, see if we can get him to remember something else.”

“Still...” Athos continued. “...it's worth ringing around garages to ask if any silver car with damage to the left part of the windscreen or front left of the car has come in over the past couple of weeks. If this was a person who accidentally hit the boy and then panicked, they would have made sure that their car was fixed promptly because seeing the damage would be a constant reminder of the accident.”

“I'll get on it,” Porthos offered.

“And I'll check the stolen car database again.” He turned to d'Artagnan to explain. “Unfortunately a lot of hit-and-runs are caused by joy-riding. Lambert and Dufour did check at database at the time but perhaps an abandoned silver car has turned up since they last looked.”

“But a silver car though,” d'Artagnan sighed. “It doesn't really narrow it down. Paris is full of silver cars.”

“Indeed, so we'll have to narrow it down,” Athos pointed out. “If we manage to get a list of number plates of silver cars in that area during that time from the CCTV cameras and can gather some names of car owners who have had their silver cars fixed over the past couple of weeks, we may get very lucky and find a match. If it was a stolen car though it'll be far more difficult to discover who was driving it.”

“What about the boy's clothes?” d'Artagnan asked. “There's a small chance that some paint from the car came off on his clothes.”

Athos stared at d'Artagnan. It hadn't even occurred to him that they could gather evidence from the clothes.

“You watch too much bloody TV, you smart alec,” Porthos mumbled but he had a smile on his face. The sarcastic praise caused d'Artangnan to grin. 

Athos moved away from the flip-chart to sit back at his well-organised and obsessively clean desk. “How is the murder case coming along?” he asked the youngster whilst he was there. D'Artagnan looked somewhat guilty all of a sudden.

“I've been sworn to secrecy. I'm not allowed to talk to you about it.”

Athos tutted with annoyance. “Constance obviously forgets we're all on the same side.”

“Actually the Captain told me not to tell you either,” d'Artagnan explained as he rolled his chair back towards his own desk, knocking a waste-paper bin flying in the process. Athos frowned at the door of Treville's office for good measure.

Athos then tried to concentrate on searching through the database but he found himself getting distracted by re-organising what little was on his desk. Porthos, who was on the phone to one of the many car garages in Paris, raised an eyebrow over at Athos as he watched Athos getting a little obsessive compulsive. So Athos tried to stop...before rearranging his pens once more so that the one with the lowest amount of ink was on the left and not the right. He couldn't help but feel anxious about Aramis, wondering how things were going with Ninon. Although he knew deep down that there was no need to worry because everyone liked Ninon but what if Aramis didn't? What if Aramis didn't even want to talk? What if Porthos was right and Aramis' problems were too much for Ninon to deal with?

As soon as fifty-five minutes had passed and Porthos had gathered a small list of car registration numbers and drivers details, Athos got up from his desk.

“We need to go and get him,” he announced but then, at that moment, Treville appeared in the doorway of his office.

“Athos, a word.”

Athos looked up at the clock on the wall even though he knew full well what the time was. He didn't have a spare moment; he only had five minutes to go down two floors to collect Aramis.

“Can I come back in a few minutes, Captain? I just need to quickly do something,” he explained but didn't give much time for Treville to respond because he was marching out of the office and out into the hallway, Porthos hot on his heels.

“What did you do that for?” Porthos asked, following Athos. “I could have gone to get Aramis.”

“We need to be outside and waiting at exactly noon,” Athos explained.

“No we don't,” Porthos said. “I could have gone to get him. Athos, you're being weird. You need to calm down a bit. I saw you fiddling with your stationary. Do you need to wash your hands or something? You seem to be very anxious.”

“I don't need to wash my hands. I just like to be where I'm supposed to be when I'm meant to be.”

Porthos said nothing more and just followed Athos to the floor where Ninon had her office. They were early but only by two minutes so they just waited until Ninon opened the door.

“Athos, Porthos, come in for a minute.”

Athos hadn't been expecting an invitation into the room and immediately worried that something was wrong. Was Aramis upset? Did the session go badly? Porthos went in first because it took a moment for Athos to get his legs to move but eventually they did and soon he was inside the familiar counselling room. Aramis was sitting on a chair and looked up at them both with a huge smile. Not upset then.

“Sit down for a second,” Ninon instructed so Athos and Porthos did as they were told, both squeezing onto a small two-seater sofa which was against the wall as Ninon sat back in a chair close to Aramis and crossed her legs.

“Aramis and I have been talking and we've decided that it'll be good if I see him twice a week. Once on a Tuesday by himself and he can make his own way here if you two are busy. Then, at the end of the week, it would be good if all four of us could get together.”

Athos looked at Ninon who was waiting for a response and then he watched as the smile disappeared from Aramis' face. In fact Aramis began to chew on his bottom lip as if he had was nervous about how they would react but there was no doubt in Athos' mind that he'd do whatever Ninon suggested if she felt it would help Aramis.

“Of course,” he agreed quickly which seemed to result in Ninon's face lighting up with delight...or perhaps relief. 

“Wonderful. Porthos, is that okay with you?” 

Athos felt Porthos shift on the chair. “I...is that gonna help?”

“I think so,” Ninon explained. “You're all a part of each other's lives and I think it'll be good to talk some things through together.”

Porthos offered a slight shrug and Athos could tell that the big man wasn't entirely keen but he obviously was willing to make the effort as well. “Alright then.”

“Wonderful. I know it'll be difficult to select a regular slot because of your work so we'll sort something out on a week by week basis.” She turned back to look at Aramis. “There we go, Aramis. You'll come and see me every Tuesday like we spoke about. Then Athos and Porthos will join us on a Thursday or Friday.”

Aramis nodded and Athos noticed that he now had another smile on his face. “Okay.”

Obviously satisfied that it was all settled, Ninon stood up from her chair. “Okay then we have a plan. Now, if you don't mind, I must grab some lunch before my next client.”

They all took the hint and got up to leave, Athos thanking Ninon as he walked out of the door. She smiled warmly at him and Athos had a real sense that they could trust her to make things better for them all. When they were walking down the corridor Athos couldn't help but question Aramis on the session, needing to make sure that Aramis was happy with the arrangement.

“So you like her then?” he asked.

“Yeah, she's really nice,” Aramis responded. “She's nice to talk to.”

“That's good,” Athos smiled slightly to himself. 

“And did you manage to ask her about working?” Porthos asked, still sounding a little unhappy about something. Athos could only assume that Porthos had never had counselling before and perhaps he didn't believe that it was for him. Athos decided to wait until Aramis was home before he spoke to Porthos about it.

“Yeah,” Aramis admitted. “I...I'm going to go and see Señora Rosario this afternoon if I can find her. Then maybe spend some time with Mr Mathieu tomorrow.” Aramis turned to look at Porthos. “If that's okay?”

Suddenly Porthos' mood appeared completely lifted and he beamed from ear-to-ear. “That's more than okay.” And Athos concurred. Obviously Ninon had somehow managed to distract Aramis from working by suggesting that he spend time with his friends instead. A wonderful idea indeed and one which would keep Aramis safe for the time-being.

A hand suddenly pressed against Athos' chest as they reached the front desk. The hand belonged to Porthos.

“I'll take him home. The Captain wanted to see you, remember?”

Athos had, in fact, completely forgotten. “Yes,” he nodded. “I should go and see him.” He turned to look at Aramis. “Give Señora Rosario my best wishes and I'll see you this evening.”

Aramis smiled and nodded at him so Athos left them to it and darted back upstairs, hoping that the Captain wasn't too annoyed. Unfortunately it seemed that he was and, as soon as the door was closed, he began to express that feeling.

“Now I don't mind, Athos, that you're working a little less obsessively. I don't mind that you now actually seem to go home in the evenings and have the odd day off. In fact I'm incredibly pleased about these developments but there's something I'm a lot less pleased about, could you please explain to me what exactly is going on with you two and Aramis?”

Athos, standing in front of his Captain's desk, was rather bewildered by the sudden question.

“I...pardon, Captain?” he asked, wondering why Treville was suddenly asking about Aramis. 

“Athos,” Treville sighed. “Sit down.”

Athos did as he was told and pulled back a chair to sit onto it. 

Treville sat down himself which did defuse the situation slightly. “I read your report about tracking down Professor Mounstephen and I'm not an idiot, this 'friend' who you were with that stumbled across Emilie...that was Aramis wasn't it? And then I was downstairs today when you both arrive in, with Aramis. What's going on? Is this something else I can't officially know? Because you're beginning to push your luck with all that.”

Athos was a little taken back by it all and wasn't entirely sure how he was going to defend himself because he wasn't very sure how much he wanted Treville to know. However, getting frustrated with the silence and hesitation from his Sergeant, Treville leaned forward and placed his elbows onto his desk and looked straight at him with a very stern look.

“Athos, I like to think that you and I have the sort of relationship where we don't keep secrets from each other.”

Treville was right, they did have that sort of a relationship. Treville had been the person who Athos broke down in front of when his drinking problem was getting out of hand. Treville had been the person Athos had gone to when his confused feelings for Porthos began to surface. He didn't keep secrets from Treville and Treville had never broken his trust. So why was he keeping this a secret? Perhaps it was time to admit to the truth.

“He's living with us,” he suddenly blurted out. 

Treville sighed and immediately sat back in his chair, like all of his worries had just been validated. “Your informant is living with you?”

“He's not our informant anymore,” Athos pointed out quickly. “And he had no-where else to go. It wasn't safe from him out in the streets after Marsac found out it was Aramis who had helped the police. I mean, we think it's safe now but, even so.”

“Athos,” Treville said calmly. “I pretend I don't know about you and Porthos because I don't want to lose either of you from my team. But this...this is something else.”

“We're not doing anything wrong,” Athos insisted and he should know because he had questioned it himself many times.

“Aren't you?” Treville asked. “The case hasn't even gone to court yet. You'll probably be called up to give evidence. If the courts found out that you're living with your informant...”

“We're not doing anything illegal,” Athos promptly pointed out. 

“Perhaps not but you're doing something unethical.”

Athos paused before asking. “We are?”

“Yes. You've crossed the line from it being a professional relationship to it being a personal one. I'm surprised you can't see this yourself but maybe your... _feelings_ are clouding your judgement.”

“But...” Athos began to feel his heart beating loudly in his chest as he panicked. He didn't like doing things wrong, he didn't like breaking rules, he didn't like getting into trouble. But Aramis...Aramis was Aramis he couldn't just stop what had been happening between them all. “...the case is closed.”

“No, it isn't,” Treville pointed out sternly. “It isn't closed until there's a conviction. Do you really want to jeopardise it?” 

Athos sat there for a moment. He didn't. He wanted Marsac to go away for a long time for all of the awful things he had done. “No,” he admitted quietly and, for some reason, his response seemed to soften Treville who sat back once more.

“Look, Athos, I've said what I needed to say as your Captain. However, as your friend, I just ask that you're careful. I want you to be happy in your private life and I can see a positive difference in you. You don't spent half as much time in the bathroom these days. Just be sensible, okay?”

“Yes, Captain,” Athos said, now not entirely sure what Treville was telling him.

“Is the relationship...platonic?” Treville then asked, sounding awkward with the question.

Athos wasn't sure how to respond but his face obviously gave something away because Treville let out a rather loud sigh.

“If I didn't have such a soft spot for you two I'd....” He didn't finish the sentence though. He didn't need to. He paused for a moment then said something else. “I just don't want to see you risk your career. I have every hope and belief that you'll be sitting behind this desk one day if Constance doesn't beat you to it. So, just...be careful, okay? At least until the court case is over and some time has passed.”

Athos nodded but still didn't quite understand what Treville was saying. Just be sensible...wait until time has passed...was Treville telling him to distance himself from Aramis? But Athos didn't want to sit there and think about it so he stood up.

"Thank you, Captain," he said and then left as quickly as possible.


	22. The Doubts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Author's notes - Once again everything I know about the police and the law comes from TV shows so do forgive any inaccuracies! And thanks for sticking with this. I wish I had the time to write faster, I really am doing the best I can!]

Athos didn't go back to his desk after his conversation with Captain Treville, he walked straight through the office, out into the hallway and then directly into the male bathroom. Treville had been right, Athos had been spending less time in the bathroom over the past couple of weeks, but Treville had just changed that. Another detective was at the sink and smiled politely at Athos. As soon as the man left Athos turned the hot water tap on and began to wash his hands, staring at himself in the large, dirty mirror.

He knew Treville was right; they shouldn't have allowed themselves to get involved with an informant, especially one like Aramis who was so vulnerable. If Athos had heard of another detective doing the same thing he would have given them a good talking to. Yet now he found himself in that exact situation and he didn't know what to do about it. He couldn't change the past and yet the thought of pushing Aramis away right when they were finally making progress with the man just felt wrong. To get close to Aramis was immoral but to remove Aramis from their lives felt just as immoral. So where did that leave things?

Athos felt sick and anxious which drove the compulsion to wash his hands. He was so engrossed in the familiar ritual that he hadn't even heard someone else come in.

“Athos?”

It was unusual to hear a female voice in the male bathroom so Athos immediately knew who it was without even looking.

“You can't be in here,” he told Constance, staring down at his hands. He was just finishing the second wash so he reached for hand-towels, threw them in the bin and began to wash again.

“I don't believe in segregation.” Constance had obviously moved closer because Athos could soon see her out of the corner of his eye.

“What happened in Treville's office?” she asked softly.

Athos' automatic reaction was to lie because he didn't want to talk about it. But this was Constance and Constance was the one person he could talk to outside of Ninon and Porthos. And Constance cared. He could see how much she cared when he finally looked up into the mirror and noticed the look of painful concern she had on her face as she stood close to him.

His hands slowed down slightly...three...he reminded himself. He still needed to get to his five but he could take his time with it.

“The Captain wanted to know what was going on with Aramis so I told him that Aramis was living with us. He's...concerned.”

Constance didn't say anything at first, just nodded. Athos reached out for more tissues to dry his hands then began to wash again...four.

“Well I've been concerned as well,” Constance admitted and then stepped forward, pressing her hip against the sink next to Athos to properly watch him. “But Aramis is a sweetheart and I think the three of you are good for each other. I know Treville is worried but don't let him put doubts into your head.”

Doubts? It felt a little more than just doubts to Athos as things stood. He was beginning to question everything.

“Athos...” Constance leaned forward to try and catch Athos' eye. Athos gave her eye-contact for a moment so she'd know that he was listening. “...what's your heart telling you?”

“My heart?” Athos snorted. Constance did have a habit of sounding like a character out of those romantic comedies she watched so much. “All I can hear in my head right now is that I've done something unethical and if anyone else had done it, I would be saying the same thing to them as the Captain did to me. Probably far more harshly in fact.”

“What unethical thing have you done? You've been a blessing to Aramis. You've given him a safe home and a chance to start again and do something different with his life. It's not like he has no choice in the matter either, he's a grown-man and is quite capable of leaving if he really wants to.”

“He's our informant,” Athos pointed out, rubbing the soap between his fingers. “We shouldn't have gotten so involved in his life.”

“Well...maybe you're right. But do you really want to stop it all now? Could you really force him out?”

Athos sighed and washed the soap off his fingers. Then he reached for another towel and patted his hands dry. They were beginning to feel a little sore and, strangely, he questioned if he even wanted to wash them for the fifth and final time.

“I...” Athos paused and thought. The idea of asking Aramis to leave or even helping him find somewhere else to live was rather distressing. Everything would go back to square one. In fact there was a good chance Aramis would go straight back into his old life and they'd never even see him again. “...no. I don't want him to go. We've come so far with him. Even though there's still a long way to go to help him. I don't want to give up.”

“Then that's what your heart is telling you,” Constance said with a smile. “Find out when the case is going to court and just be conscious of that but don't let it stop you. You said yourself that you won't let Aramis take the stand anyway.”

Athos nodded. “I'm meeting the lawyer on Monday so I'll know more than.”

“Then don't even think about it until Monday.” Constance reached out and stroked his arm. “I really want to hug you but I'm not sure if you'll freak out.”

Athos couldn't help but let a small smile escape. Constance was a wonderful person with both a soft and gentle side as well as the tough-nut detective side. He decided to let her in on a little secret.

“I actually quite like hugs,” he said quietly and that, it seemed, was all the permission Constance needed because he was soon being squeezed.

“Now stop washing your hands,” she said into his ear as she hugged him. “You're going to give yourself dry skin. Actually I have some moisturising lotion, come on.”

  
Athos was about to protest because he'd only washed his hands four times and not five but he wasn't given much of a choice because Constance soon had him by the wrist and was dragging him out of the bathroom. They almost bumped into Detective Pelletier who was opening the door from the other side. He just chuckled and winked at them as he stepped out of their way.

“That's how rumours start, Pelletier!” Constance snapped at the man but Athos could still hear him laughing as he disappeared into the bathroom.

“Great, I've become your beard,” Constance mumbled but Athos didn't understand what that meant.

The next thing he knew he was standing beside Constance's desk with hand-cream being poured onto his palm. D'Artagnan was watching but was sensible enough not to ask. Then, once he was released from Constance, Athos went back to his desk and had a look at the list Porthos had created after calling the garages and got to work calling some more. He was just on the phone to a rather obnoxious garage owner who refused to give any details to Athos unless Athos could prove that he did in fact work for the police-force, when Porthos came back.

“I tell you what,” Athos said on the phone as he nodded at Porthos to acknowledge his return. “I'll come round tomorrow with three other police cars and we'll hang out in your garage all day long until I'm quite certain that everyone in the area has seen the police outside your garage and witnessed you being questioned. Would you prefer that?”

Funnily enough the garage driver then changed his mind and gave Athos the registration numbers of the silver cars he had worked on over the past couple of weeks although refused to give names or even why the cars had come in. Athos grumpily thanked him and put the phone down.

“How goes it?” Porthos asked as he sat down at his desk opposite.

“Well I'm certainly gathering quite a list,” Athos admitted and then sighed. “Although I have just realised that this entire case will fall through if the person who knocked the boy down was in fact a garage owner or someone who can fix up cars themselves.”

Porthos chuckled a little. “Then let's hope that isn't the case. I'll call the tech guys, see how they're getting on with the camera footage.”

Very well appeared to be the answer. In fact they had caught a couple of silver cars on camera which were speeding around in locations close to where the accident happened during the correct time-frame. Porthos thanked them before hanging up.

“That's helpful because I want to narrow this list down,” Athos said, staring down at the growing list of silver cars which had been in for repairs around Paris over the past couple of weeks. “How about tomorrow we go and talk to the boy's friend then we'll visit the tech team straight afterwards?”

Porthos nodded his agreement. Between the two of them they managed to finish phoning up most of the main garages in Paris just before they all closed. They ended up with a rather impressive list of over a hundred cars which was both impressive and unhelpfully long.

Athos' back was beginning to hurt from sitting at his desk for too long. He stretched it out and Porthos watched him.

“Time to go home?” Porthos asked hopefully.

“Yes I think so,” Athos responded, satisfied that they had done a decent job. It was no wonder that Lambert and Dufour hadn't gotten very far in catching the driver considering they had been juggling this case with their usual detective case-load. At least Athos and Porthos had the current luxury of giving the case their entire time and attention.

On the way back, in the car, Athos suddenly remembered that he had been meaning to question Porthos on his reluctance with Ninon earlier.

“Are you alright with Ninon's idea about us all going to a counselling session once a week?” Athos asked. “You seemed a little hesitant.”

“Course I'm bloody hesitant but, if it'll help Aramis, then I'll do it.”

Athos wasn't sure if he had missed something. Was he meant to know why Porthos was hesitant? The problem was he didn't and he could either leave it and just pretend, or he could be honest and ask. The Ninon voice in his head was telling him to ask so he did as it suggested.

“Why are you hesitant?”

“Because I don't need a shrink asking me shit about my childhood,” was the blunt response. Athos was a little taken back by the statement and knew that he needed to enquire further.

“You think that's what she'll do?”

“Course, don't they all?”

Athos felt rather sad for Porthos. He knew full well that Porthos hadn't had the easiest of childhoods. The man never knew his father and his mother had died when he was young, leaving him in the always overwhelmed and under supported hands of the French social services. He found himself wanting to assure Porthos that the counselling wasn't going to be an unpleasant experience, despite understanding his boyfriend's reservations.

“Not really. We'll be talking about Aramis and our relationship with Aramis I suspect. I don't see why Ninon would want you to talk about your childhood. It worries you that she might?”

“Yeah I don't wanna talk about it,” Porthos admitted, sounding very adamant about the fact.

“You won't have to talk about anything you're not comfortable talking about,” Athos attempted to be reassuring about it. “Ninon won't make you.” Although Athos knew full well from experience that Ninon noticed those things that you don't want to talk and always comes back to them. But Porthos didn't need to know that and it was going to be all about Aramis, Athos assumed, not Porthos.

“Yeah, alright,” Porthos grumbled.

“I have the dog, you have the counselling. We both have things which we need to do for Aramis' sake,” Athos pointed out and his comment immediately lightened the mood because Porthos began laughing.

“You're very sweet about the dog, you know,” he told Athos. “I can see your stress-levels rising but you never say anything to Aramis. You're doing very well.”

“I want to get a chain and tie the thing up in the garden,” Athos admitted, staring out of the window.

“Aww don't be cruel. It's cold and lonely in the garden.”

“I'll go in the garden then,” Athos mumbled which seemed to make Porthos laugh again.

When they got back home the dog was happier to see them as Athos was to see 'it' but Aramis was in a good mood which was nice to see.

“How was Señora Rosario?” Athos asked when they were all sitting around eating a late dinner which Porthos had prepared. Athos kept on promising himself that he'd learn to cook but Porthos never seemed to let him.

“Good,” Aramis told them with a smile. “She wasn't at the day centre so I went to her apartment. She's still getting over a chest infection but she was really pleased to see me.”

“The landlord behaving himself?” Porthos then checked.

“Yeah, yeah, no more problems since whatever you did,” Aramis grinned over at Porthos. “She said I should come down to the day centre next week when she's better and say hello to everyone. So I might do. I might help serve lunch like I used to.”

Athos could tell that Porthos was trying to stop himself from looking too happy. “And you're gonna go and see Mr Mathieu tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Aramis nodded, putting another mouthful of food into his mouth he didn't speak again until he had chewed and swallowed. “I'll try and catch him when the restaurant is quiet. Ninon...” Aramis seemed to pause but then he continued. “...Ninon and I talked about how I could keep busy. I hoovered the house and cleaned the kitchen today as well.”

Athos and Porthos exchanged a private smile between the two of them and Athos assumed that Porthos was thinking the same thing that he was; thank you, Ninon.

“Thank you, Aramis,” Athos said and really meant it. Now the dog was in the house spreading its...dogness, he wanted the house as clean as possible.

“Can we watch a movie together tonight?” Aramis then asked, looking at them hopefully. “On my bed.”

“Sure,” Porthos responded immediately but Athos felt a little more hesitant, Treville's 'advice' still ringing around in his head however much he was trying not to think about it. Thankfully Aramis didn't appear to be waiting for a response, he just continued grinning as he ate a couple of further mouthfuls then appeared to be full. Athos was still concerned about Aramis' appetite but one thing at a time.

After dinner Porthos sent Aramis off to pick a movie as Athos helped him wash-up. They mostly listened to Aramis chatting as he went through almost every single movie on Netflix, describing them all.

“Oh!” He suddenly said. “Oh, Athos, you'll like this one! You've got the book of it. Yeah we should go for this one.”

Aramis scrambled onto the bed and waited patiently. It wasn't long before the washing-up had been finished and Athos was just about to follow Porthos by climbing into the bed when a memory suddenly hit him...the dog...on the bed. The image caused Athos to freeze and the realisation that he had almost climbed onto the sheets made him panic. He had almost gone onto the sheets where the dog has been sleeping. The sheets would be covered in dog-hair...everywhere. They would have gotten over his clothes and over his skin. He would have been dirty...filthy...his chest began to tighten and he had to put more energy into getting air into his lungs as he wouldn't stop the feeling of horror about it all.

“Athos?” Porthos' voice pierced his thoughts. He looked around until he found Porthos' concerned face. “Something wrong?”

Athos attempted to open his mouth to speak but in the end he just let out a shaky breath. Aramis seemed to say something to Porthos but Athos couldn't focus on the words. Porthos said something back and then moved across the bed, coming towards Athos.

“Alright, love,” Porthos said soothingly, standing up he immediately came over to stand close to Athos and began to stroke his back. “Take some deep breaths, ay? Calm yourself down before it starts.”

Athos nodded and did as instructed. He closed his eyes and took in a long, deep breath. Then he let it out as slowly as he could. Stop thinking about the dog, he told himself firmly, think about Porthos. Feel Porthos' warm hand. Yes, Porthos was good, Porthos was clean and safe and wonderful. Athos could breathe again, the air was starting to seep into lungs and fill them up. He opened his eyes and everything felt calm once more.

“What brought this on?” Porthos asked after allowing Athos to take a couple more breaths.

Athos found the connection between his brain and his mouth acting rather slow but he owed it to them to at least explain. “Sorry, I...the sheets...can we change the sheets?”

Porthos looked down at the bed, across at Aramis and then back at Athos. “Course we can. Why didn't you just say that? I'll go and get some clean sheets.” He kissed the side of Athos' head. “Aramis will stay here with you, okay?”

Porthos left and went upstairs. Now Aramis was scrambling slowly off the bed, looking at Athos with wide-eyes.

“Do you want to...” Aramis paused and looked around the room. “...check your books? Check they're still in alphabetical order?”

Athos almost snorted with amusement at Aramis' sweet voice of concern but then he realised that there was a part of him that suddenly did want to check his books.

“Alright,” he responded. Aramis smiled and placed his hand on Athos' shoulder and they both went over to the bookcase.

“Come on, Athos,” Aramis was saying softly like he was talking to a small distressed child. Athos pondered if Aramis had touched the books since Athos had his minor meltdown over the bookcase before. Sadly he suspected that he'd probably scared Aramis off going near the books for life.

“They're all there, see?” Aramis was saying. “You should check though.”

Athos nodded and bent forward to make sure that everything was on order. He went through all of the A's, B's...and was down by the F's when he heard a noise coming from behind which implied that Porthos was back. By the time he had reached J's Aramis disappeared somewhere. When he had finished the alphabet he turned around and discovered that Porthos and Aramis were changing the bed-sheets together. Now the threatening panic attack had been defeated, Athos felt ridiculous and incredibly embarrassed.

“Stop frowning,” was an order which came from Porthos as Athos began to get lost in his thoughts. “Come back over here, we're almost done.”

Porthos gathered up the 'dirty' sheets and carried them over to the washing-machine in the kitchen. Frodo was wondering over to the bed. Athos watched intently as the dog stood beside the bed then sat back on his legs as if he was ready to...

“Frodo!” Aramis suddenly yelled and darted around the bed to stop the impending jump. Thankfully his shout had managed to get the attention of the dog and it was wagging its tail as Aramis appeared. “Go and lie down in your bed. Where's your bed?”

Frodo, seemingly understanding, walked away and stepped into the dog bed on the carpet. He walked around in a circles for a moment before curling up and lying down. Athos was actually impressed at the dog's obedience of Aramis' instructions. Porthos soon appeared again and encouraged Athos back over to the bed with his hand on the bottom of Athos' back. Athos did as he was being encouraged, beginning to feel increasingly ashamed.

“I'm sorry,” he said, as he scrambled onto the now clean bed, satisfied that no dog had been on it.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Porthos said.

“Nope, not at all,” Aramis agreed as he remained standing. “It's not your fault.”

Athos sat back against the pillows and sighed. He wanted to be alone and wallow in self-pity but he knew that they wouldn't let him. “I don't...it's stupid,” he said, trying to express his thoughts. “I can't stop...I do try.”

“Hey,” Porthos was on the bed now and leaning across to cup Athos' face in his big hands. “You did a great job, okay? I thought you were gonna have a panic attack but you didn't. You stopped it before it got bad. You did a great job, love.”

Porthos leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss against Athos' lips. Athos closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy it. When Porthos pulled his lips away he pressed his forehead against Athos'.

“I just wish I didn't do it at all,” Athos whispered honestly. He was getting tired of his OCD and panic attacks. He just wanted to wake up one day and be normal, just like everyone else. Just like...

“I wish I didn't have fits as well,” came a voice from somewhere else. Athos slowly pulled his forehead away from Porthos and turned to look at Aramis who was sitting on the other side of Porthos, perched on the edge of the bed. He wasn't looking at them, he was starting at the TV where the film was waiting to start. Athos opened his mouth to respond but then paused for a moment. He wanted to make sure that he said the right thing so he thought for a second, pondered about the fact that Aramis and himself did have that in common at least.

“It's scary not being in control all the time, isn't it?” Athos noted and watched as Aramis nodded. He felt Porthos reach for his hand and he took it, squeezing Porthos' fingers as he continued to look at over at Aramis, wanting to continue the conversation now that Aramis had opened up. “It must be very hard for you with your epilepsy.”

Aramis nodded again. “Yeah. Each time I don't have a fit for a while I think it has gone...it has stopped...but then I have a fit again. I wish it would go away for good.”

“I wish the same,” Athos admitted. Hoping that finding a bit of solidarity with Aramis would help Aramis feel more supported. “For you I mean and for myself. Although I know it's different.”

Aramis finally turned and he was looking right at Athos. His beautiful face with such a lost expression in the eyes. “It's not so different,” Aramis said, almost whispering. “We both have problems in our brains. Our brains just go a bit funny sometimes.”

Athos found the corners of his lips curling up into a smile because he hadn't ever heard anyone put it like that before. His brain did go a bit funny sometimes, that was an understatement, no-one else had to turn lights on and off five times, place shoes in the correct order every time they took them off and be unable to cope with a dog hair on a bed-sheet.

“Yes, indeed,” Athos responded, feeling oddly comforted by the new found brain melt-down solidarity. Porthos, who still had a hold of his hand, was now also reaching out and rubbing Aramis' shoulder. Aramis immediately smiled at Porthos enjoying the touch.

Then, before anyone had the chance to say something else, Aramis suddenly lurched forward. He lifted his hands up which were half covered by his blue sweater and cupped Porthos' face just a second before he kissed Porthos passionately. Porthos squeezed Athos' hand as he closed his eyes against the kiss. Athos watched, his mouth slightly ajar caused by the fact he'd never witnessed Porthos kiss another man before. Aramis was tilting his head to the right and moaning with delight as he slipped his tongue into Porthos' warm mouth and Athos began to remember how Porthos tasted as he watched them both intently.

Neither party seemed keen to end the kiss. In fact Aramis grew even more keen and his hands moved from Porthos' beard down to his shoulders where they pushed and Porthos fell back against the pillows on the sofa-bed. Athos watched as Aramis promptly straddled Porthos' lap without breaking the kiss. Aramis' hand then travelled lower, down Porthos' broad chest and towards his stomach. There it disappeared to somewhere Athos couldn't see but he could guess. His suspicious were confirmed when Porthos finally pulled his head back to break the kiss, groaning for a moment before opening his eyes and looking up at Aramis.

“No, Aramis, stop,” he pleaded before he gasped.

“Why?” Aramis asked, his wet lips curling into a smile. “I can make you both feel really good.”

But the words made Porthos sigh. “Because you say things like that, that's why you should stop.”

Only Aramis didn't stop, he obviously squeezed or did something because Porthos closed his eyes and groaned again before his hands reached up to grip onto Aramis' arms to physically stop him. He then looked sternly up at Aramis which obviously did the trick because Aramis whined and his arm stopped moving.

“I don't understand,” he admitted, clearly getting frustrated.

“I know,” Porthos responded gently. He let go of one of Aramis' arms and reached up to gently stroke some of Aramis' curls back. Aramis immediately pressed his cheek against the warm hand although the frown on his face didn't disappear. Porthos then gripped onto Aramis' neck and pulled him forward, tugging Aramis' face down towards his chest. Aramis collapsed against him and lay across Porthos as Porthos held him tightly, pressing a kiss onto the top of the man's head.

“I don't understand,” Aramis then mumbled again but seemed quite content being cuddled by Porthos, or at least he wasn't trying to move away.

“Shhh it's okay,” Porthos whispered, rubbing one hand over Aramis' back, the other one was still holding his neck.

There was silence between all of them for a while and Athos began to realise that his trousers felt a little tight; he had obviously been even more turned-on by the sight of Porthos and Aramis kissing than he had mentally realised. He briefly reached down and, hoping that neither of them would notice, tugged at the clothing around his groin to loosen it a bit.

“Why won't you let me do it?” Aramis eventually asked. “I know you both like me.”

“We do,” Porthos said softly to the top of Aramis' head. “But it still feels like you're trying to seduce us to please us. Like you feel obligated and it shouldn't be that way.”

“I don't know how else to do it,” Aramis then admitted and Athos realised that it was probably the most truthful thing which had ever come out of Aramis' mouth.

“I know,” Porthos kissed Aramis' curls again. “That's why we'll take our time with it, so we can teach you.” He then smiled over at Athos. “Both of us can teach you.”


	23. The Talk

Athos wasn't sure if Porthos had meant that they'd 'teach' Aramis at that very moment but Aramis seemed to settle against Porthos, close his eyes and made some sort of unconscious decision for all of them. 

Athos, relieved that everything felt settled, turned on the movie which Aramis had selected but Aramis himself appeared to fall asleep within the first few minutes. Athos watched as the man's breathing deepened as he lay between Porthos' legs, his cheek pressed up against Porthos' gently moving chest. Athos had fallen asleep himself like that on a couple of occasions so he knew how comfortable it was and couldn't really blame Aramis for bailing out on them. Porthos also appeared to be quite content lying there with Aramis on top of him, in fact Porthos looked like he was in heaven; a small smile stayed on his lips as the movie played. Athos felt a twinge of jealousy at the sight of the pair of them so happily snuggled up together but brushed it aside to concentrate on the movie which he began to enjoy once it got going. 

By the time the movie had finished Athos was also starting to doze off against the pillows but, as it had been a long day full of various OCD annoyances, he knew that he really wouldn't sleep properly until he had completed his night-time rituals. 

“I'm going to go upstairs,” he whispered into the quiet room once the TV was off.

“Alright, love,” came the sleepy voice of his boyfriend. Porthos then sunk himself down onto the bed to get even more comfortable. Aramis made a small grumble of protest but Porthos was soon still again, closing his eyes. 

So Athos went upstairs by himself, folded up his dirty clothes and placed them in the washing basket. He then washed his face, brushed his teeth and did everything in the order he liked having it done. When he had finished he turned the bathroom light on and off five times and found himself standing out on the landing. 

The bedroom door hadn't moved which meant that Porthos was probably still downstairs. In fact it was quite likely, judging from the way he had re-adjusted himself on the bed before, that Porthos had fallen asleep. Athos wasn't sure what to do, if he should go back downstairs and join them or give them the space and go to bed upstairs by himself. Weighing up the options, the fact that the dog was downstairs swayed his decision and he walked into the bedroom and crawled into bed. Only the bed felt too large and cold without Porthos in it. Athos stared at the empty space in the bed once his eyes had adjusted to the dark and he began to miss the warmth which always radiated from Porthos' body and the comforting sound of his snoring. So he rolled over onto his opposite side so he could no longer stare at the barren wasteland of the mattress but his eyes didn't want to close. He just thought about Porthos and Aramis being downstairs and how much he wanted to be with them. 

Then why aren't you? The questioning voice in his head asked and suddenly the dog didn't seem like a sufficient answer. So he shoved back the sheets and left the room in his boxers and t-shirt. He tip-toed down the stairs only to find the lamp was still on, even though the other two looked fast asleep on the bed.

“Was worried for a moment that you weren't coming back down,” came the soft deep voice of Porthos which startled Athos as he hadn't been expecting it. “Turn the light off and come over here.”

Athos did as requested. He made sure that Frodo was still in the dog-bed before turning the lamp on and off his ritualistic five times.

“Aramis, mate,” Porthos then grumbled as he tried to move Aramis off. “We need to take some clothes off and get comfortable.”

Aramis was too far gone in the land of nod to hear Porthos speaking to him, but the man did inhale a sharp intake of breath when Porthos suddenly began to move. Athos pulled the duvet back and watched as Aramis lifted his head and blinked a few times, seemingly still half-asleep and not quite understanding what was going on.

“You need to get underneath the duvet” Athos informed him. “Otherwise you'll wake up in the middle of the night cold.”

Aramis eventually managed to focus his eyes on Athos and then possibly began to realise where he was and what was going on because he clambered off Porthos only to then lie face down between the two of them and doze off again. 

Porthos chuckled as he at least undressed himself down to his underwear. “He's cute when he's sleepy, isn't he?” 

A friendly slap on the back of the leg from Porthos made Aramis grumble and wake up again.

“Come on, love, get underneath the duvet at least.”

Somehow Porthos got Aramis to comply and soon Aramis was underneath the duvet in the middle of the bed, still fully clothed, with Athos and Porthos either side. It was a squeeze but Athos quite enjoyed having a warm body pressing up against him. 

“Do you think we should undress him?” Athos asked, concerned about Aramis overheating during the night.

“I'm sure he'll wake up and undress himself at some stage,” Porthos mumbled so Athos decided to leave it, still having absolutely no-idea how the other two could even contemplate going to sleep without brushing their teeth and washing first. Still, each to their own, Athos mused. He would just make damn sure none of them tried to kiss him in the morning with their dirty germ-infested mouths.

Whilst falling asleep had proved to be easy, getting out of the bed the following morning was decidedly harder, even for a morning person like Athos. The real problem was the fact that Aramis, at some point during the night, had curled up against Athos' back, wrapped his arm around Athos' stomach and was now seemingly unwilling to let go.

“You could stay at home today,” Aramis was mumbling against the back of Athos' neck as he gripped onto Athos' t-shirt tightly.

“We cannot,” Athos explained. “We need to interview someone.”

“Can't that wait until tomorrow?”

“No. We've arranged to interview him at his school. It's important.”

Aramis protested with a bit of a pathetic whine and squeezed Athos harder before nuzzling his cheek against Athos' shoulder-blade. “But you could stay here with me instead.” 

Athos did feel guilty that they always left Aramis on his own. He knew full well that Aramis was used to having 'visitors' all day long so it was probably unsurprising that the man struggled being by himself. They already knew that about Aramis so Athos tried to think of something which would distract Aramis from his current state of understandable neediness and remembered something.

“We'll try and be quick,” he promised Aramis even though he couldn't see him. “You should go out and see Mr Mathieu in the meantime.”

“Yeah,” came the rather huffy response and then Aramis' fingers un-gripped Athos' T-shirt and his hand began to move down Athos' stomach. 

“Aramis,” Athos warned but his words went unheeded because soon the searching hand had pushed down further and was cupping Athos through his underwear. “Aramis,” Athos said again but this time it came out as a moan instead of sounding stern like he had intended. 

“Please stay,” Aramis was whispering into his ear, his palm kneading Athos enthusiastically. “Please.”

Athos wanted to push him away but he was unable. Aramis' hand was making the blood rush to his groin and be was beginning to get hard. He pushed his hips forward and groaned, knowing that he should shove Aramis away he couldn't find the will-power to do so because it felt so delightful. Aramis' hand only stopped for a brief second so his fingers could pull at Athos' boxers and slip inside. There they immediately wrapped around Athos' hardening erection and began to stroke, long tugs which made Athos thrust his hips forward even more but words began to ring around in his head; immoral...unethical...Athos squeezed his eyes tightly shut and tried to stop the thoughts. He was doing nothing wrong, they were doing nothing wrong, weren't they? 

“You like this, don't you?” Aramis then whispered. “Do you want me to go faster? Tell me what you want. I'll do anything.”

“Jesus,” was all Athos managed to say. Aramis' words just weren't right. He was too eager to please and too willing to do whatever it took just to make Athos stay in bed. “No, Aramis...” Athos needed to stop this. His body was begging him not to, his body wanted release from the warm fingers stroking his sensitive flesh but his brain was telling him otherwise and Porthos was right there in the bed....

With all of his mental strength, Athos reached back and pushed at Aramis' ribs to force their bodies to part. Once Aramis' fingers slipped off his cock, Athos threw himself forward and scrambled out from the duvet to clamber off the bed, hard and flustered. The sudden action caused an angry cry of frustration to come from behind.

“Stop pushing me away!” Aramis screamed. “Stop doing that!” Athos turned back and saw a distraught looking Aramis going red. “Am I not good at it?!” Aramis shouted, water was leaking from his eyes and pouring down his cheeks. Porthos suddenly sat up from no-where and wrapped his arms around Aramis from behind, pulling the man back against his chest he held the distressed man tightly. Aramis fell back against Porthos but he was still crying and screaming. “Just tell me and I'll do it better! Just tell me, please don't push me away!”

Then Aramis sobbed and Porthos tried to soothe him and Athos stood there feeling like everything was his fault. He should have stopped it sooner. He shouldn't have let Aramis do it. He never should have even slept in the bed. Now Athos was still standing there with his erection watching Aramis distraught on the bed and the air was slowly being sucked from the room. With his chest heaving and a panic attack threatening, Athos raced towards the stairs and run up them. He immediately pulled off what little clothing he had on and dived into the shower cubicle. Turning the shower on it was freezing at first but the shock of the cold water pelting at his skin felt like a suitable punishment and it soon made the problem between his legs disappear. 

As the water began to warm up Athos leaned forward and pressed his forehead against the white tiles. There was a lump growing in his throat and tears were forming in his own eyes. He tried to breathe slowly, making sure that he was getting enough air into his lungs before his fingers tingled. Whilst he was successfully stopping himself from hyperventilating, he was unable to stop the tears. He let out a whimper before letting them fall. Everything was confusing, everything was so confusing.

“Athos?” A voice brought him out of his trance and he lifted his head, moving his forehead away from the tiles only for his stiff neck to creek in protest. He must have been standing on the same spot for a longer than he realised. He turned his whole body to save his neck and saw Porthos coming into the bathroom through the condensation on the shower-door. 

“You okay?” Porthos was asking and Athos had no-idea how to respond. He quickly wiped his cheeks with the back of his wet hand and then shoved his face underneath the water to hide his shed tears. 

“Love, we really need to sit down and sort this all out.”

Athos wasn't sure what to say. Everything so was mixed-up in his head. He liked Aramis and wanted Aramis but they needed to be careful until the court case and that just didn't seem fair. Nothing about any of it was fair. Nothing about anything when it came to Aramis was fair. 

“Athos?” Porthos called and the shower-door opened a little. The look of worry on Porthos' face made Athos realise that he still hadn't responded.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, standing under the hot water, letting it drench his hair. Porthos seemed to eye him up, obviously noticing something about his face which gave away his emotions even without Athos needing to say anything.

“You wanna talk to me about it?” 

Athos nodded a little. It all seemed silly really, having a conversation with Porthos whilst standing naked in the shower but it did seem like the perfect opportunity to bring up the meeting with Treville.

“The Captain was asking me about Aramis,” he admitted, looking at Porthos who was standing outside the shower to gage his reaction. “He told me to be careful. Said that it was unethical getting close to Aramis and that we especially need to keep our distance until the court case otherwise it may well cause problems both for the case and for our careers.”

Porthos' eyes narrowed. “He really said that? When?”

Athos tried to remember. God when had he said that? His brain was in such a state that he could barely remember what day it was. But then he paused and thought and figured out that it must have occurred only yesterday lunch-time.

“When he called me to his office yesterday.”

Porthos frowned. “Why the fuck didn't you tell me?” he then demanded to know. “Fuck, Athos, why are you still keeping things from me?”

Athos was surprised that Porthos was more upset about the fact Athos hadn't mentioned it than what Treville had said. “I...” he began, moving underneath the water sightly to let it soak his chest. “...I was going to. I just forgot.”

“Well stop fucking forgetting,” Porthos then said before letting out a loud sigh and turning away slightly. Athos watched him, wishing he knew what Porthos was thinking. He hadn't meant to upset him but he didn't interrupt Porthos' thoughts and eventually Porthos looked back at him again. 

“Do your washing thing then come downstairs, okay? Aramis is upset. We really need to sit down and sort this out. Or at least talk about what the rules are otherwise this is just gonna keep happening.”

And, with that, the shower door closed and Athos was left on his own again, now feeling like he was the one who had done something wrong.

Athos didn't want to go downstairs to talk. He wanted to work. He understood his job, he understood what to do when he was investigating a case. Home life was just one big confusing mess where he was torn between his sense of duty and what his heart was telling him. But he knew they were both waiting and he had already upset Aramis enough, so he eventually put on a clean pair of trousers, clean socks and a clean shirt and went stairs where Porthos and Aramis were sitting at the kitchen table sipping coffee. Porthos looked up when Athos came down, Aramis remained staring at his mug.

“Want some coffee?” Porthos asked which caused Athos to nod. Porthos got up and made Athos a drink whilst Athos sat down at the table where Aramis wouldn't even meet his eye. He really had messed-up then.

When the fresh mug of steaming coffee was sitting in front of him, Athos reached out and warmed his fingers with it.

“Right,” Porthos began, acting as the intermediary. “I know we're all seeing Ninon in a few days but we need to sort this out. I don't want to see you both getting upset again and this whole situation is...confusing. Let's talk about it.”

Then he waited expectantly for someone else to speak. Athos found himself watching Aramis who still hadn't even looked up since he had come down. When Aramis made no attempt to speak, Athos knew that it was down to him to go first.

“I'm sorry that I upset you, Aramis,” he said, sounding as honest as he could. “That wasn't my intent but I can completely understand why you were annoyed with me.”

Aramis seemed to nod a little and raised his head just a fraction higher. Porthos leaned over towards him.

“But we already made it clear that we can't be physical with you, not yet. I know that's confusing though. Sex is...sex should be about making both people happy.”

That perked Aramis up. He sat up straight and looked straight at Porthos with a sense of energetic eagerness. “I can do that though. I've had sex with more a couple of people quite a few times. I know I can make you both happy.”

“No,” Porthos groaned and paused to rub his temple. “No...I meant the two people having sex. I meant...if two people are having sex, then it's about the pleasure of both of them. Aramis...” Porthos dropped his hand from his temple and reached out to wrap his fingers gently around Aramis' arm. “...you just do everything to make everyone else happy and, whilst that's a very admirable trait, it ain't how it should be. I mean it is sort of about that, but it's not all about that. God it's hard to explain out loud.”

Aramis blinked at Porthos like he didn't understand. Athos once again wished that they had Ninon on speed-dial for such emergencies. 

“We like you, okay?” Porthos appeared to squeeze Aramis' arm tighter. “But we want to do the right thing and I don't think either of us really know what the right thing is. We've never really...well you're different, Aramis. And I don't mean that in a bad way. You've just had a difference experience of life.”

“I know,” Aramis said quietly. “I know that I have. I know that I'm not the same as other people.”

“Hey, I didn't say that,” Porthos pointed out quickly. “That's not what I meant. We've all been through tough stuff which has made us the people we are today. It's just that your experience of sex is one of you giving and people taking. I don't even know what you think about sex, not really. You just talk about how you want to do it to make us happy. I mean...do you even like sex? Do you actually enjoy it?”

“I'm good at it,” Aramis pointed out which wasn't really answering the question at all.

“Yeah that's...that's not what I asked,” Porthos sighed and let go of Aramis' arm. He sat back and glanced over at Athos and Athos realised that he had been letting Porthos do all the talking and he obviously wanted some help. Athos began to wonder even more about Aramis' history and suddenly wished that he had managed to read more about Father Vincent. If Aramis had been on the streets since a teenager and, since then, been a prostitute under the wing of Marsac then surely that meant...

“Aramis, have you ever been in a relationship with anyone apart from Marsac?”

Aramis finally looked over at Athos and didn't seem upset anymore. He just shook his head.

“No. Marsac and I were in love. We were together for a long time.”

The importance of the 'were in love' comment didn't go unnoticed by Athos. The fact that Aramis was finally talking about his feelings for Marsac in the past tense felt like an incredible and significant step forward.

“Then this must be very different,” Athos pointed out.

“Yeah it is. I like you both a lot and I'm trying to show you that I like you but I guess I'm not doing it in the right way. I'm sorry. I wish I knew what to do.”

“You're not doing anything wrong,” Porthos interjected. “Not really. In most relationships you do have sex but you always initiate it because you want us to stay with you or you want to make us happy. What about you, Aramis? What do you want?”

“Well I...I want you to stay with me. Is that bad?”

“No, mate, it's not bad. It's just...you can express that in others ways. Aramis, do you want to have sex with us?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“So I can show you....no.” Aramis lowered his head having stopped himself from saying the words had he repeated so often. “No...you don't want me to say that.”

“I want you to be honest. Just say what you want to say,” Porthos encouraged.

“I...I want you to like me.”

“But we like you anyway, you know that.”

“Yes but...I want to...I want you to...I don't know.” Aramis started ardently at his mug.

“Keep going,” Porthos said softly. “Say what you want to say. You're not going to upset either of us, I promise. It's more than just about wanting to make us happy, ain't it? There's something you want from us. It's okay to want something. Tell us, Aramis, please.”

“I want you both to like me and want me around...forever. I really like it here with you. I feel...safe.”

“You do?” Porthos raised an eyebrow, obviously both surprised and pleased.

“Yes,” Aramis nodded. “I loved Marsac and I still miss him sometimes but you...you both let me stay. I always wanted Marsac to let me stay but he sent me back; back to my apartment or back to the brothel. But you let me stay here all day and sleep here. I want to make you happy to thank you. I want to work so I can pay you back as well. I want you to want me around. I'm scared you're going to make me leave.”

Athos closed his eyes and thought about everything Treville had said and suddenly it felt so wrong. Yes, perhaps it wasn't wise getting so attached to an informant, yes they probably should at least hold back until the court case but to push Aramis away now, to rewind everything and return things to the way they had been before would break Aramis. Athos could see that so clearly now.

“We won't,” Athos promised, opening his eyes slowly. “We won't make you leave. This is your home.”

A smile began to form on Aramis' face but then, just as it was reaching his cheeks, it disappeared completely. “But we can't have sex?”

Porthos chuckled. “Aramis, we will soon, okay? And, when we do, I hope you'll let us make you happy.”

The smile was back and Porthos leaned forward to embrace him. Athos watched them both and felt quite satisfied that something had been sorted. However he was also now very aware that they were pressed for time. They had arranged to meet the witness at his school with a teacher and now they were going to be late if they didn't get a move on.

“You only have ten minutes to have a shower,” he informed Porthos. “We need to go to the school.”

Porthos pulled away from Aramis and said something along the lines of, 'You'll get used to Athos eventually' before getting up from the table. 

“I won't make you late, love,” Porthos then said before racing upstairs leaving the other two sitting at the kitchen-table together. 

“US late!” Athos called after him but Porthos had already gone. Aramis smiled over at Athos but Athos still hadn't really forgiven himself for letting things go too far then pushing Aramis away like that. He knew that he hadn't by the tightness in his stomach.

“I really am sorry,” he said again, hoping Aramis understood that he really meant it. “It wasn't that I wasn't...enjoying myself.” He felt his cheeks begin to get warm. Was he blushing? He must have been because Aramis began to grin.

“I know you were,” Aramis laughed. “I could feel it. But I'm sorry as well. I shouldn't be selfish. I know you have to work. I know it's important.”

“It is. A boy was hit by a car and then it drove away. He was quite seriously injured and we want to find the driver.”

Aramis suddenly sat up straight. “A boy was hit by a car? That's awful! Can I help?”

“No, no but thank you. We're going to re-interview the boy's friend who was with him at the time and see if there's anything else he can remember.”

Aramis began to look a little sheepish, his hands coming together on his lap. “I feel awful. I wanted you to stay here at home but that boy...that's awful.”

“Hey, no,” Athos leaned forward on the table. “No, don't feel bad. I wasn't telling you to make you feel guilty.”

“I know but I do. I feel selfish. I wish there was something I can do to help.”

“Don't worry, Porthos and I will catch the driver. You just have a good day, visit Mr Mathieu.”

“Okay,” Aramis stood up and came towards Athos. Athos stood himself to meet him and they both embraced, giving each other a reassuring squeeze. Aramis felt cosy in Athos' arms and Athos knew that he could get used to holding him and having him around. He already was. Treville was wrong. Treville didn't understand the situation like Athos did. The moral thing to do was to look after Aramis. The ethical thing to do was to keep Aramis safe. He was quite certain about that. Perhaps his certainty would silence the doubts in his mind from now on.


	24. The Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Added an extra tag to this story as a trigger warning. It has been hinted at heavily before but child abuse will be mentioned as part of a character's backstory.]

The meeting with the boy who had witnessed the hit-and-run initially, by Athos' standards, didn't seem to be going very well. The boy was quiet and appeared to be nervous by the presence of the two detectives. He mostly just stared down at the floor, looking very small as he sat next to his teacher, but then he was a child Athos figured and children tended to be quite small.

After a few more unsuccessful minutes of the teacher trying to coax the child into telling them what had happened on the day of the hit-and-run, Porthos got off the adult chair he had been sitting on and grabbed a small plastic blue chair from beside a school desk. He then placed the plastic chair closer to the boy and sat down. The chair creaked slightly and Athos, for a heart-stopping moment, wondered if the whole thing was going to collapse under Porthos' weight but, somehow, Porthos managed to perch successfully and was now closer to the same height as the child. The boy himself briefly looked up to glance at Porthos before staring back at the floor again, or was he looking at Porthos' shoes?

“I need you do something for me, okay?” Porthos requested gently. “Just close your eyes. That's all you need to do. Just keep your eyes closed and listen to my voice.”

The boy didn't look too sure at first, he fidgeted on his chair for a moment before sitting on his own hands and closing his eyes.

“Just listen to me, okay?” Porthos continued and Athos began to realise what he was doing. It was a technique Porthos had picked from watching Criminal Minds which, much to Athos' initial annoyance, appeared to work quite well whenever Porthos had tried it before. 

Porthos took the boy back to the day of the accident. He asked the boy who have served them in the shop and which sweets they had brought. Then Porthos took the boy outside and asked who was now holding the sweets, what they smelt like and what they tasted like. The boy slowly began to open up and started to talk more freely. Porthos eventually reached the difficult part.

“So, you kept on reaching over to grab the sweets, then what happened?”

“There was a loud noise,” the boy explained, his eyes still tightly closed.

“What sort of a noise?” Porthos asked.

“Like...a screech and a bang.”

“Was it tires screeching?”

“I guess.”

“Then what happened?”

“Francois disappeared.”

“Disappeared?”

“Yeah...he was gone.”

“What can you smell?”

“Smell? I don't know. Car smell. And there's a car...a car right next to me.”

Athos quietly reached into the inside of his jacket and pulled out a small black notebook and pen, ready to note down anything important.

“What colour is the car?” Porthos asked.

“Silver I think...yeah it's shiny.”

“Is it a big car or a small car?”

“Big car. Long car.”

“What's the car doing?”

“Nothing...” The boy went quiet for a moment as he obviously tried to remember the scene and everything which was going on around him. “It's just sitting there.”

“And what's the driver doing?” Porthos pressed. “Can you see the driver?”

“Yes,” the boy answered and Athos got a little bit excited. In the interview with Lambert and Dufour the boy had claimed that he never saw the driver. “The driver is just sitting there too.”

“What does the driver look like?”

“Long...long dark hair. Dark like mummy's but curly.”

“Like your mother's?” Porthos asked. “Is the driver a woman or a man?”

“A woman, a lady.”

Athos was surprised to discover that the driver had been a female although he wasn't entirely sure why that piece of new information shocked him so much. In built-up rural areas it was in fact women who tended to have more accidents. Still, to hit a child and then leave the child lying there injured...he couldn't fathom how anyone of any gender could do that.

“How old is she? Is she..a girl? Or a woman? Or an old lady?” 

At first Athos was confused as to why Porthos didn't offer age ranges until he figured that perhaps children weren't too wise when it came to guessing ages so Porthos giving those three sub-types was probably far more sensible. That turned out to be the case.

“I don't know. She isn't old. Maybe like Aunt Nicole. I think Aunt Nicole is 40 although she said that she was 21 but she can't keep being 21. No, I think Papa said that she was 40.”

Porthos continued to try and gather more information about the driver but the boy couldn't remember anything else. It sounded like the driver then reversed back onto the road and sped off. When the boy began to describe how he then finally saw Francois lying on the ground with blood underneath his head, Porthos decided to stop asking questions because the boy was clearly getting distressed thinking about it.

After thanking the boy and the teacher, they both left the school, Athos felt pleased about the progress and was glad that the interview hadn't been a waste of time thanks to Porthos.

“Well that narrows down the search to half of the population,” Athos pointed out when they headed out towards the school car-park. “Less than that when we factor in the dark hair although women do dye their hair so maybe not...”

“Yeah,” Porthos grumbled, seemingly unsettled by the case which didn't surprise Athos. Porthos was a sensitive soul and anything to do with children being hurt always did get to him. “Let's go to the Tech team and get those number plates they saw on the cameras. Hey, have you heard back from the doctor about Aramis' test results yet?”

The question, which rather came out of the blue given the situation, made Athos pause to think. No, he hadn't. But then it hadn't been that long since he had dragged Aramis to the doctors to have the tests in the first place. “Not yet,” he explained to Porthos. “I'll let you know when I do. It takes a few days. We'll probably hear next week.”

Porthos nodded solemnly. “I hope he's alright. I really hope he doesn't have anything bad.”

Athos hoped the same although he was trying not to think about it; they'd known soon enough.

They headed back to the station and soon stood in the far too cluttered for Athos' liking Tech office studying the camera footage. The two speeding silver cars from the area both appeared to be driven by men judging by the slightly grainy footage. When Porthos told the technician that they were looking for a female driver, 30s or 40s with long, dark curly hair, his eyes lit up.

“Hold on, you might be in luck.”

He hunted through some of the footage he had collected and they both waited with a building sense of anticipation until he found what he had obviously been looking for. 

“I noticed her because she just sat in her car for a while and then got out, looked at something, got back into her car and drove off. It was a bit odd. Here you go.”

He then played footage from a traffic camera which showed a silver car pulling up on the side of the road and staying there.

“Where is this?” Athos asked. 

“About ten minutes from the accident scene about ten minutes after the accident. You asked us to expand the search parameters so we did. I honestly don't know why this seemed strange to me, but it just did. At first I thought that maybe she stopped to use her phone.”

They watched as the car stayed parked along the side of the road with other vehicles whizzing by. 

“Can you zoom in?” Porthos asked and the tech guy did so. The footage wasn't as clear when he did so but it was obviously a female and she had long dark hair. She didn't appear to be doing anything until she got out, on the pavement side, walked over to the front of the car and leaned over to inspect something.

“She's looking for damage,” Athos suddenly realised.

They all watched as she then got back into her car and drove off. 

“Can we get a number plate?” Athos asked. He had been so busy watching the woman that he hadn't been paying much attention to the car.

“Might be-able to. Or at least a partial one,” the tech guy told them then worked away, fingers clicking at the keyboard and mouse ball whizzing around. Athos marveled at such people, he knew the basics when it came to computers but the skills they had at their disposal with their Tech team he was incredibly grateful for. It took the technician a few short minutes, flashing between stills of the car and clearing up the image until, amazingly, he managed to get almost a full number plate. A couple of the letters were blurry but they had enough to go on.

“Wonderful. Truly amazing,” Athos said, noting it down. “We can put this into the database and also match this to the list we have of cars which were repaired recently.” 

Porthos gave the tech guy a happy pat on the back and they both hurried out to get back to their desks. It didn't take long for everything else to fall into place. They found a silver Citreon C5 which matched the partial number-plate registered to a woman in her late 30s which, looking at her drivers license, had long dark hair. From there they managed to find out where she worked, a boutique as it happened, and they both drove there to interview her. According to their background check she had been banned from driving for a year previously after being caught driving under the influence of alcohol. Athos suspected that alcohol perhaps had a part to play in the new accident. Why else would a car have mounted a pavement for no reason? And why did she then panic and drive off? 

He did, however, try to keep his emotions under control as they found the lady working in the shop and asked to have a word with her. Seeing two detective's turn up on her doorstep was enough to scare her and, when Athos rather implied that they knew it had been her who had hit the child even though they actually weren't certain, it was enough to break her. She was soon in floods of tears in the back office of the shop admitting to everything. Athos didn't have a lot of sympathy but he made a show of remaining professional as they placed her under arrest. 

The interview proved to be tedious as far as Athos was concerned. She wouldn't stop crying and Athos found himself growing more impatient as all he could think about was the poor boy in the hospital bed and the poor parents who had a long road of supporting him through his recovery ahead. Porthos somehow did a better job or was at least better at faking empathy because he offered her tissues and coffee and eventually got her to admit on tape that she had been driving the car and she had hit the boy. She never quite admitted that she had been drinking but Athos decided to leave that to the lawyers. They eventually managed to get her to sign a confession and charged her officially. The evening then dragged on with paperwork to complete which was only broken by Treville coming out of his office, a rare sight indeed.

“Is what I've just heard correct? You managed to arrest the driver of the hit-and-run?”

“Yes, sir,” Athos said nonchalantly as he continued to stare at his computer-screen, checking for grammar errors in his report.

“That's...” Treville didn't seem to finish his sentence so Athos was forced to glance up at him. Their Captain appeared to be searching for the rest of what he wanted to say on the opposite wall. Athos briefly turned to also look at the wall but couldn't see anything interesting on it. “...incredible,” finally came the ending which brought Athos' attention back to the man. “I can't believe that Lambert and Dufour couldn't do in two weeks that you've both managed to do in a couple of days.”

Athos briefly glanced around to make sure that neither Lambert or Dufour were around to hear the comment. Athos then wasn't sure if it was his desire to defend his colleagues or the fact he still felt somewhat grumpy with Treville, but he decided to stick up for them regardless.

“Well you give them too many cases. All of the other detective's have too much work to do. Whereas Porthos and I have the luxury of concentrating on one thing. Which I know you do on purpose but, even so, it makes it easier.”

“Yes and you're just both good,” Treville praised and Athos noticed, from across the top of his computer screen that Porthos was smiling. Porthos enjoyed praise and glory. “Take some time off, a couple of days at least. I'll call you back in if I desperately need you for something before then. You both deserve it.”

Athos was opening his mouth to protest because he didn't need any time off and, in fact, he had been working less hours than his usual antisocial amount recently but Porthos got in there before he managed to.

“That's really kind, Captain, thank you. We both need a bit of a break, truth be told.”

Athos slowly closed his mouth again and decided that maybe Porthos was right; two days off in a row wouldn't kill him after all...well it might. It would be an interesting experiment to find out. 

By the time they got back home it was very late and Athos fully expected Aramis to be fast asleep on the sofa-bed so they turned the hallway light on to remove coats and shoes but Athos didn't plan to go into the living-room. Only Porthos wasn't thinking the same and he peeked his head around the doorway before his hand reached for the light-switch.

“Don't wake him,” Athos warned but it was too late, Porthos turned the living-room light on and had already stepped inside.

“He's not here,” Porthos said and so Athos, confused, joined him in the room. Frodo was on the sofa-bed, stretched out right in the middle but Aramis was indeed not there. After walking across the room to check the kitchen-area only to discover that it was dark, Athos did feel a little concerned. It was almost midnight, why would Aramis not be home?

“Perhaps he's upstairs,” Athos suggested and Porthos immediately marched past and then darted upstairs to check. Athos suspected that Aramis wasn't up there by the lack of voices and the way Porthos quickly appeared at the top of the stairs again, pulling his phone out of his jeans and obviously finding Aramis' number. By the time he was back in the living-room he was waiting for Aramis to answer. Only the phone obviously just continued to ring as Porthos eventually hung-up, eyebrows together as he looked troubled.

“Something might have happened to him,” he said, staring down at his phone.

“Maybe not. He probably just had to wait for Mr Mathieu to finish work, they're probably still talking,” Athos suggested. Porthos didn't appear too convinced though and only briefly looked at Athos before trying to call Aramis again. He brought the phone up to his ear and waited. This time he obviously had more success because Porthos stiffened.

“Aramis? Where are you, mate?” Athos waited patiently as Porthos listened to the other voice which Athos himself could barely hear. “You coming home in a bit?....Yeah we just got back.....Alright, mate, you gonna be okay getting back here?....Alright, see you soon.”

Porthos let out an audible sigh of relief when he hung up. “I don't know what's wrong with me,” he then mumbled to himself and moved into the kitchen-area, turning more lights on. Athos watched and wondered if he should say something.

“He was with Mr Mathieu then?” Athos asked as he watched Porthos moving around, taking bowls out of the dish-washer and putting them away in the cupboard.

“Yeah, seems so.” Porthos then paused for a brief moment and sighed once again, before continuing what he was doing. “I just...worry, you know.”

Athos did know and he slowly walked over to where Porthos was lining up the clean glasses and he wrapped his arms around Porthos' stomach. Porthos smiled as he placed down the glass he had in his hand before turning around in Athos' arms and returning the hug.

“I love you,” Athos offered, trying to make Porthos smile even more and it worked.

“I love you too,” Porthos responded with a grin before closing his eyes and kissing Athos softly on the lips. Athos tilted his head upwards, being a couple of inches shorter than his boyfriend, and enjoyed the familiar comfort of Porthos' embrace after such a long day. They continued the lazy kissing as they both stood in front of the sink until both of Porthos' hands came up to cup Athos' face. The hands gently pulled Athos away, pulling their lips apart.

“You're perfect, did you know that?”

Athos almost spluttered at the words. Perfect? Far from it, he mused. He could easily come up with a very long list as to why he wasn't perfect but Porthos, somehow knowing what Athos was thinking, silenced his thoughts.

“You're perfect for me. I ain't ever...I mean...I've had boyfriend's before but none like you. You're the only one that I've wanted to make a life with...that I've wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”

Athos was rather taken back by Porthos' honest words. So taken back, in fact, that he couldn't even think of how to respond. He felt incredibly lucky to have someone as caring, loving and patient in his life as Porthos. In fact Athos was often puzzled as to why Porthos would even want to be with him but Porthos did for some unknown reason.

“Even if you are about as romantic as a dead fish,” Porthos then pointed out. Athos thought that was slightly unfair, how could a dead animal be romantic at all? The deceased animal was unfairly up against him, in Athos' option. Porthos though was obviously in talkative mode because he continued regardless of the one-sided conversation.

“We really should put this place on the market though. It's doing my head-in not having a proper living-room with a sofa anymore. And Aramis needs his own space, his own room. It's important that he has some privacy.”

Athos nodded because he did agree and, finally, he said something to say. “We could always rent this place out on a month-by-month basis and rent somewhere larger ourselves for the time-being, if we want to speed things up. I suspect that this place will be easy to rent considering its central location. Then, in a few months, once we all know what we're doing, we can actually put this house up for sale and buy somewhere new.”

“I like how your brain works,” Porthos noted and kissed Athos' forehead to make his point. “You bring the brains, I bring...the cooking. You know we missed dinner? I should really...”

“No,” Athos stopped him. “Porthos, it's the middle of the night, I can't eat now. Let's just go to bed and have a large breakfast.”

Porthos didn't seem entirely convinced but didn't argue the point either. “I'm gonna wait up for him to come back though. Do you mind? I'll just feel better when I know he's home okay.”

Athos nodded. He wasn't going to point out that Aramis was a grown-man and had done a fine job of keeping alive in his life so far because he understood Porthos and Porthos needed to make sure that everyone was fed and safe. 

“I can stay up with you?” Athos offered but Porthos gave him a squeeze and shook his head.

“No, you go sleep, love. Get some energy for our two days of excitement.”

“Excitement?” Athos raised a questioning eyebrow. He knew they had two days off which could kill him, officially, because he could barely cope just 24 hours without working. However he really couldn't remember them planning anything exciting for their time off together.

“Yeah, two whole days with my favourite two people. That's exciting for me.”

The grin on Porthos' face made Athos grimace and decide, just to himself, that he would at least 'try' and not work during the next two days if it meant so much to Porthos, whilst secretly hoping that the Captain would call them in. Thankfully Porthos was just laughing and that's how Athos left him to go upstairs and sleep.

Athos must have slept through Aramis' return because, when he woke up, Porthos was snoring in bed beside him. Athos didn't mind the snoring because he liked knowing that Porthos was right beside him. Rolling over to look at the beside clock, Athos discovered that it was still early but he wasn't one to laze around in bed so he got up and went to have his shower as quietly as possible. By the time he had finished washing, Porthos had disappeared from the bedroom and Athos heard the faint noise of music playing downstairs. After dressing he went down to join them both in the kitchen. Porthos, it seemed, was making a full cooked breakfast and Aramis was sitting at the table with Frodo at his side wearing jeans, a T-shirt and a rather impressive spread of curly bed-hair.

“Ah, there he is. Tell him your good news,” Porthos encouraged. Aramis turned to look at Athos with a not so happy look on his face which made Athos suspect that the news perhaps wasn't as good as Porthos' happy voice was suggesting.

“Mr Mathieu offered me a job,” Aramis explained, sounding less than enthusiastic about it. Athos glanced over at Porthos was standing in front of the stove grinning, then he turned back to Aramis.

“That's...good?” he offered, really not sure if it was or not because his brain hadn't finishing processing the information yet.

“No it's not,” Aramis responded with a pout. “I don't think I'll be very good. He said I could just try it. Maybe do a couple of shifts a week. But I already know I won't be good.”

“How do you know you won't be any good when you haven't even tried it yet?” Porthos said, cracking the eggs into the frying-pan.

“Because I just know,” Aramis mumbled and placed his chin in his hands like a sulky teenager. Athos felt sorry for him and moved to sit at the table.

“What is the job exactly?” he asked, aiming to try and build some confidence in the man.

Aramis shrugged, sighed and sat up straight again. “Waiting tables.”

“Well that's not too tricky...” Athos put forward before actually thinking about the fact waiting tables was quite a skill. To be polite to rude and drunk customers, remembering all of the orders, carrying all of the food...still, Athos wasn't going to express his negative thoughts to Aramis. He found some positive things to say instead. “You just need the ability to smile and remember things. Or write them down. Actually I have no-idea how they do it but I'm sure it's a skill which you'll be-able to master. You're good with people.”

Aramis didn't appear very convinced then and just looked at Athos for a moment before saying, once again, “I won't be good at it.”

“Hey,” Porthos came over, rubbed his hand across Aramis' back and pulled out the chair beside him to sit down. “Mr Mathieu is nice, isn't he?” Aramis nodded. “Then it's worth giving it a go. If you really do struggle or you really do hate it, Mr Mathieu isn't going to mind. You said yourself that he suggested you just give it a try.”

Aramis thought about it for a moment and then gave a little nod. A nod which said 'I'm just agreeing to keep you happy and change the subject'.

“You said you wanted to work and earn some money. Jobs won't often just fall into your lap, you know.”

“I want to do my old job,” Aramis then pointed out which immediately made Porthos' grimance.

“Yeah, that's not going to happen,” the big man mumbled before getting up from the chair and returning to make the breakfast.

“All of this...” Athos held out his arms slightly and gestured to the house around them. “...is a new start for you. You can do whatever you want to do. You don't have to do the same thing for the rest of your life. Is there not something which you always secretly wanted to do?”

Aramis didn't respond straight away but he was clearly thinking about it. In fact he shifted in the chair and began to rub his hands together like he was building up his courage to say something. Athos briefly wondered if anyone had asked Aramis such a question before.

“Go on,” he encouraged softly. “There must be something.”

Unfortunately whatever Aramis had been thinking didn't quite make it to his mouth because he just shrugged. Athos was disappointed that Aramis hadn't found the courage to be honest but decided not to push it.

“No, no I can't,” Aramis suddenly said instead. “Marsac wouldn't like it.”

“Marsac?” Athos almost choked out the word. Why was that bastard coming back into the conversation again?

“Yeah, he wouldn't like it.”

Aramis pushed back his chair and got up, leaving the table to head back into the living-room area. Athos turned to Porthos and found Prothos looking back, the expression of confusion probably mirroring his own. 

“Fucking Marsac,” Porthos muttered before almost slamming the frying-pan down onto one of the cold hobs and going off after Aramis. “Hey, mate,” he said as Aramis crawled back onto his bed on top of the crumpled duvet. “Marsac is in jail and he'll be there for a long time. Marsac doesn't have a say in your life anymore.”

Athos could barely see what Aramis was doing so he got up from the table himself and slowly made his way over. Porthos had moved to sit on the end of the bed and reached out to stroke Aramis' leg.

“He won't like it though,” Aramis mumbled as he lay face-down on the bed, staring blankly across the room.

“And what will happen if he doesn't like it?” Porthos asked. The question made Aramis paused for a moment.

“He'll get angry.”

“He's in jail,” Porthos pointed out. “So it doesn't matter anymore. He won't even know and, even if he finds out you've found a job, he can't do anything. I honestly don't think he'd even care anyway. Things are different between you both now.”

“Yeah, I made him angry,” Aramis pointed out. “He's probably still angry with me.”

“Probably. So don't worry about pissing him off more.”

Athos joined them and did briefly pause as he stood by the bed. He knew full well that the dog had been sleeping on the bed but, feeling awkward towering above the other two, he closed his eyes briefly and forced himself to perch on the edge of the mattress, silently praying that there were no dog-hairs on that part. Once he had managed to sit down without having a panic attack, he tried to think of something to say instead, to get his mind off the dog.

“What happens when Marsac gets angry?” he asked. He had always been curious about Marsac and if the man had actually ever hurt Aramis before the night when he had almost killed him. This felt like a good opportunity to find out.

Aramis' eyes did move to look at him in a way which almost appeared to be suspicious “He never hurt me,” Aramis pointed out. “I know you think that he did, but he didn't. He never hit me or anything like that.”

Athos nodded, biting his tongue to stop himself from pointing out that Marsac had actually hurt him. Marsac had almost killed him but Aramis still seemed to be in some sort of denial about that fact, even though Athos had hoped they had moved on from the denial stage. 

“That's good,” he said as a response instead. Hoping that it was the right thing to say.

“He just...didn't want to see me. When he was angry I mean. He wouldn't see me for a few days and then I really missed him but I couldn't go to him unless he sent for me so I just always had to wait. So I tried not to upset him. I always did whatever he wanted so that he'd be happy.”

Athos paused to imagine what it must have been like for Aramis to only have Marsac. Marsac who, it seemed, was full of mood swings and a rotten temperament. Was it any wonder that Aramis was so eager to please all of the time? He had spent his whole entire adult life trying to keep Marsac happy.

“You know, you'll make us angry sometimes,” Porthos pointed out. “And we'll make you angry sometimes as well. That's what happens when you live with people. But we won't push you away like that.”

Aramis moved. He sat up and leaned back against the sofa-bed to face them both. He glanced from one to another, like he was studying the pair of them. They both patiently waited to see if Aramis was going to say something, eventually he did.

“I am trying to understand how things work, I promise. I'm trying to figure things out. It's just so different. I'm not used to getting to know people like this. Usually I just have people visiting. No-one ever stayed for more than a couple of hours. It's...weird.”

Porthos chuckled and swung his leg to move further onto the bed. “A good weird, I hope?”

“Yeah, a good weird,” Aramis actually laughed and Athos smiled because it felt good seeing Aramis laugh. “I just wish I didn't feel so confused all of the time. I wish I didn't have different parts of my head telling me different things.” As if to emphasize his point, he tugged on his hair. “I wish I could just know what I want.”

“It'll take time,” Porthos explained. “You worked the streets as a teenager then worked in brothels for years, from my understanding. I really don't think you want to go back to that because you actually enjoyed it. I think you want to go back to that because it's...familiar.”

Aramis lowered his gaze away from the pair of them for a moment. “Yeah...maybe,” he admitted quietly although he sounded slightly unsure. 

“And that doesn't mean there's something wrong with you,” Porthos pointed out. “If Athos couldn't work in the police force anymore, he'd be just as lost. He wouldn't know what to do with himself either. He would be hesitant to try something new.”

Athos did open his mouth to protest before realising that Porthos was actually right. Thankfully Athos had no intention of leaving the police force.

“But, what you did...” Porthos continued. “...it was dangerous, Aramis. And it was bad...for you I mean.”

Aramis, who often seemed to be in fierce denial about most things, much to Athos' surprise nodded his head. “I know. But I couldn't leave...there's always someone else. There's always someone else. Marsac...Marsac was nice compared to the others.”

“Which others?” Athos asked. Marsac was the only pimp Aramis had ever mentioned and the comment raised Athos' curiosity especially when he vaguely remembered Aramis saying the same thing back when they had initially interviewed him.

“The others,” Aramis admitted without saying much at all. “The others. Before Marsac.”

“Others like who?”

Aramis brought his hands up and buried his face in them, making it clear that he didn't want to talk but Athos wasn't going to let it go.

“Like who?” Athos asked, pushing it. Aramis never opened up to them, never told them about his life before Marsac but Athos wanted to know, he needed to know.

Aramis mumbled something into his hands, so quietly that Athos barely heard it but there was no mistaking his words. “Before I ran away.”


	25. The Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Sorry for the delay!!]

Athos was desperately curious to learn more about Aramis' past. He wanted to know about Aramis' childhood and discover why he had ended up on the streets at such a young age. He wanted to know everything about Aramis, it felt important and yet Aramis usually avoided any direct questions they had thrown at him before so Athos knew that, whatever they did now, they had to be sensitive about it. Unfortunately sensitivity wasn't one of Athos' strengths but he had to try.

“Why did you run away?” Athos asked gently and Aramis stared at him like he was surprised at being asked such a question. There was a momentary lingering silence as Aramis seemed to contemplate if he wanted to answer.

“Because I didn't want to go to church anymore,” he eventually offered timidly.

“Why not?” Athos asked straight away before Aramis changed his mind about opening-up. So it appeared that Anne's comment had most likely been accurate and it was something to do with the church and, therefore, quite possibly something to do with Father Vincent.

“I did bad things when I ran away,” Aramis then added, already changing the subject slightly. His eyebrows were slightly raised and he had faint worry lines on his forehead.

Porthos was shuffling closer to Aramis on the mattress and Athos knew that his boyfriend was probably aching to hold Aramis and comfort him but he appeared to be holding back, perhaps unsure if he should initiate any physical contact. “What bad things, mate?” Porthos asked which caused Aramis to turn his head and look at Porthos instead.

“Really bad things. You'll be disappointed in me if you knew.”

Porthos snorted, “I don't think so, mate. You were very young when you ran away. Fourteen right?” Aramis nodded so Porthos continued. “Then I wouldn't blame you for doing anything to be honest. I was in foster homes and children's homes my whole life as well. I know it ain't quite the same, but I get how tough it is, how you need to do stuff to survive.”

Aramis nodded again and pushed his back up straight against the pillows. “Yes, yes I did. I didn't want to steal but I was so hungry so I went around stealing food from shops. Then I met these others boys and they stole cars. I didn't really want to do that because I was scared of getting caught but I went along a few times because I was a good look-out and they gave me a bit of money. I'm sorry, it's wrong, I know it's wrong because none of that stuff was mine.”

His head dropped, his lip wobbled it broke Athos' heart. Athos knew that he could do nothing to change Aramis' past but perhaps he could help a little with the guilt. 

“Well, Aramis, I'm a policeman and I do everything by the book...whenever possible. And I can promise you that, considering you were still a child at the time, the fact you stole food and cars in order to survive is completely understandable and very forgivable.”

There was something about the way Aramis' eyes lit up slightly when he raised his head again which gave Athos hope that his words had done their job.

“So you don't mind?” Aramis whispered.

“Mind?” Porthos let out a sad laugh and then, obviously not being-able to stand it any longer, closed the gap between himself and Aramis, putting an arm around the man's shoulders. Aramis didn't pull away. In fact he immediately snuggled up against Porthos' side. “We don't mind. We already knew all of that because of your rap sheet. It doesn't change anything. Nothing you say to us will change anything.”

Aramis didn't seem entirely convinced judging by the look of sadness on his face but he lowered his head onto Porthos' shoulder and at least appeared to be quite content cuddling up like that. Athos, however, felt anything but content. He was still none of the wiser about why Aramis had run away in the first place. If someone had hurt Aramis he wanted that person behind bars. He had to make sure that the person in question was Father Vincent and not anyone else. 

“Why didn't you want to go to church, Aramis?”

Gazing up at Athos from the position of his temple resting against Porthos, Aramis provided a little shrug. “It's not God's fault,” he explained which, to Athos, didn't really explain much of anything at all. 

“What do you mean?”

“They said that God would want me to obey them, but I don't think that's true now. I'm older now so I know that. God doesn't ask things like that.”

“They?” Athos replied quickly without really meaning to. 'They' implied more than just one. Unfortunately that seemed to be the end of the conversation for Aramis because he lifted his head up and looked back at Porthos.

“Can we have breakfast and then take Frodo out? What are we doing today?”

Porthos squeezed Aramis tightly. “Whatever you want to do. Maybe we can do some tourist things. Do you like art galleries and museums?”

Aramis' unimpressed raise of the eyebrow said it all and the reaction caused Porthos to chuckle. “No, me neither. Athos does though so maybe we can visit one for his sake. What do you want to do?”

Athos felt his stress-levels rising, he wanted to go back to the conversation they were having before. They...who were this 'they'? Was there something else involved? Did Father Vincent cover for someone? Was there a second person? A third? Aramis, however, was now too busy thinking about what he wanted to do for the day and the thoughts buzzing around Athos' head made him hesitated for so long that Aramis had the time to come up with an idea.

“Umm well I'll need clothes for my new job I suppose,” he said, still not sounding entirely convinced about the job idea. “They all wear black trousers and white shirts.”

“Oh yeah!” Porthos ignited his enthusiasm. “You will. We'll get you some nice shirts and trousers then. Tell you what, let's take Frodo somewhere special this morning. Maybe the Bois de Boulogne park because we can let him off the leash there. Then we can go shopping this afternoon. We should really get you some more casual clothes as well, you can't keep wearing the same few things over and over.”

“Oh I don't mind,” Aramis pointed out. Porthos gave Aramis a tender kiss on the side of the head which made Aramis smile before they both began to move and Athos was left sitting there feeling frustrated that he didn't get the answers he was looking for and now it was too late. Still, Aramis had opened up more than he ever had before so it was something. These things were slow, Athos knew that. Athos just didn't have the patience for it because if someone else was involved then he needed to find out. He wanted to go and read the Father Vincent files again with the new information in his head. He needed to find out if the detective's ever suspected that someone else was abusing the boys as well.

So many questions were whirling around in Athos' head that he barely registered the fact that someone was calling his name until he noticed both Porthos and Aramis were staring at him looking somewhat puzzled. They appeared to be waiting for an answer to a question one of them had asked which Athos hadn't heard. Athos peered back at them blankly, hoping that the question would be repeated. Porthos, thankfully used to how Athos worked, managed to figure that out.

“Love, do you still want eggs on toast? I'm gonna make some more because these have gone cold.”

That question was simple and Athos could answer that one. “Yes please.”

Porthos nodded, Aramis smiled at him and they both set about making breakfast but Athos was still struggling to let it go. Perhaps he could speak to the detective's that had been on the Father Vincent case and try to find out from them if they had ever suspected the involvement of others. That would save him days of reading through evidence and interviews. He had scribbled their names down a while ago so he just needed to go and find his notepad. 

He slowly rose, trying to be stealthy although the gradual movements just made his joints creak. He really was getting old. He managed to turn and head towards the doorway, hoping that the other two were occupied making breakfast so he could disappear for a short-time.

“Athos, are you okay?” came a voice so close-by that it made Athos jump. He turned and discovered Aramis standing there concerned, barely a metre away. “Are you going upstairs? Don't you want breakfast?”

The look of worry on Aramis' face was enough to help Athos determine that, perhaps for now, spending time with Aramis was more important than learning about his past, just for the moment. He attempted to smile.

“I was just going to wash my hands but, it's okay, I'm fine now.”

Aramis took a step closer and his eyes went down to study Athos' hands. He then reached out and took one of Athos' wrists. Lifting his arm up he inspected Athos' hand carefully, turning it over slowly before smiling. 

“Your hands are very clean and lovely,” he then pointed out, his smile grew wider and the charming laughter lines made an appearance on his face. Aramis then stared at Athos as he lifted the hand to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss onto it. Aramis now had a splattering of stubble across his face which tickled against Athos' skin. It somehow made him appear slightly older and yet even more handsome. 

“I...” Athos struggled to know what to say next. He was too distracted gazing into the dark eyes which were staring at him. “...thank you,” he eventually added. Porthos had taught him to take a compliment after all, even the slightly stranger ones. 

“You're welcome,” Aramis responded and seemed to be in full-on seductive mode, or perhaps Athos was just overly susceptible because he began to feel dizzy as Aramis moved even closer. Watching Aramis' head tilt to the side Athos knew what was coming and he was excited for it. He slowly closed his eyes as the warm lips pressed against his own. Then the lips began to move and Athos' went along with it. 

Soon Aramis let go of the wrist and two hands were then holding Athos' hips, pulling him closer and keeping him steady for which Athos was very grateful. Athos found himself leaning forward to devour the inviting mouth being offered up to him. The keen response seemed to make Aramis moan with delight before a tongue teasingly slipped into Athos' mouth. Athos wanted to grab hold of Aramis and never let the man go but he settled for running his fingers through the soft curls until their lips naturally came apart. Aramis smiled immediately.

“Was that okay? I can kiss you, can't I?”

Athos stared at the man in front of him. The wonderful, broken, beautiful man. He attempted to speak but it came out as a bit of a squeak which he hoped sounded enough like a 'yes' that Aramis would understand. Kiss me whenever you want, was what he really wanted to say. Where-ever, however, kiss me forever if you like. Instead he said nothing more than the squeaky yes which obviously satisfied Aramis as the man spun around to head back into the kitchen. Athos watched him before noticing Porthos standing there, smiling over at them, looking very pleased. Athos knew that Porthos wanted everything to be perfect and everyone to be happy and perhaps, for the next two days, Athos could grant him that wish.

Athos wasn't entirely sure who was enjoying the walk more, Aramis or the dog. After discovering that Frodo revelled in chasing after sticks it was a game which was then played for at least half an hour before it was Frodo who eventually quit due to exhaustion, not Aramis. As they headed back towards the car because all of them were staring to lose feeling in their cold fingers and toes, Athos felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and intermediately pulled it out. 

“If that's the Captain, I'm gonna...” Porthos began but Athos had already looked down at the number and discovered who it was much to his bemusement. 

“It's not,” he explained. It was a number which he hadn't seen on his phone for quite a few months in fact and yet it still drove the same feeling of dread into him as the number which belonged to his ex-wife. “It's my mother.”

He continued to stare down at his buzzing phone, feeling unsure if he wanted to answer it when he felt a supportive hand against his back.

“Might be important,” Porthos pointed out so, with a sigh, Athos lifted the phone to his ear and waited for what was very likely going to be the usual uncomfortable and awkward conversation.

“Mother?”

“Darling, your Aunt Camille has passed away,” his mother informed him in a way which was faking sadness but really sounded more like it was a deep inconvenience, which Athos suspected it was. The fact of the matter was Athos hadn't seen his Aunt Camille for at least ten years and she had been a heavy drinker and chain smoker back when he knew her, so he wasn't overly shocked by the news.

“I'm sorry to hear that, Mother,” he said, saying the right thing like he thought he should.

“Your father is in Dubai so you'll have to take me to the funeral on Friday.”

Athos paused to process all of that information. His father was away so couldn't go to the funeral of his older sister so Athos' mother was expecting him to take her. None of that made any sense at all.

“Surely Father can come back for his own sister's funeral?” 

Athos already felt determined to do everything possible to get out of it because the last thing he wanted to do was spend an entire day with his mother. He glanced over at Porthos and Aramis who had both stopped walking and were looking concerned. The mention of a funeral probably had something to do with that.

“No, darling, he has a very important meeting with some very important clients,” his mother explained. Athos' father always seemed to be having an important meetings with important clients. “You can come home on Thursday night if you like and stay over. Then we can head off Friday morning.”

Athos' mother had never bothered learning to drive. She liked people driving her around. In fact she usually had a chauffeur which was why the whole thing was slightly strange. He tried to rack his brain for the name of her latest driver but came up blank.

“Why do you need me to come, exactly? Can't your driver take you?”

“Because it's your Aunt Camille!” There was a pause before she she added, “She doesn't have any children, so she may have left us some money in her will. She may have left you some money as well so at least do her the decency of attending her funeral.”

So, that was it, it was all about money as usual.

“Mother...” he began, but she didn't let him continue.

“Come Thursday night, stay over and bring a black suit. I haven't seen you for a long time, don't let your mother down.”

And, with that, she hung up before Athos even had the chance to protest any further. He lowered his mobile from his ear and felt a sense of impending gloom coming over him like a storm cloud. Curse his mother, curse his entire dysfunctional family.

Porthos came closer. “Everything alright?”

“No, not really,” Athos admitted. “My aunt has passed away and my mother is insisting that I take her to the funeral on Friday.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.”

“Don't be,” Athos promptly requested. “I haven't seen my aunt in at least ten years. Mother is just using me because she doesn't want to turn up alone.”

“Well...” Porthos looked like he didn't know what to say, which Athos wasn't surprised about and was slightly grateful for because he didn't want to talk about it. He wasn't even going to do it. He'd just not turn up if she didn't listen to him. It wasn't like their relationship could be even more damaged than it already was. 

Thankfully neither Porthos or Aramis pushed the matter and they all remained quiet until they got into the car; Frodo was in the boot and Aramis was in the back. Athos was in such a bad mood he didn't even check to see if Aramis had covered the boot with a towel again to stop the dog-hairs from spreading around the car.

“Maybe you should go,” Porthos eventually said once they had begun to drive out of the car-park. “You haven't seen your mum in a while.”

“I'm not going,” Athos snapped, well aware that he was starting to sound like a sulking child. “You don't know my mother.”

“No, because you've never let me meet her.”

“For a good reason,” Athos explained. “I'm saving you from the hardship.”

Porthos sighed and then said nothing more of it again. He looked in the wind-mirror at Aramis who had been very quiet during the walk home. “Let's have lunch back at home before shopping, yeah?”

Obviously he got a nod or something as Porthos then proceeded to drive home which Athos was thankful for because he needed to wash his hands. The second they were inside, Athos immediately flew upstairs to go into the bathroom. He pulled at the bathroom light chord five times then turned on the hot water. It wasn't long before Porthos had joined him, lingering in the doorway.

“Talk to me, love, please.”

Athos rolled up his sleeves as he watched the water run before testing it with his fingers. It wasn't hot but it was warm enough. He then proceeded to pour some soap onto his hand and rubbed his palms together until the soap turned into a foam. Once he had cleaned his hands everything would be okay again. He just needed to wait.

“Athos?” Porthos came closer. “You're not talking. Talk to me.”

Athos wasn't sure what to say. He never knew how to explain how difficult he found it around his parents, how hard it was to go back to where everything felt so stifling because no-one had the ability to ever be honest with each other. He had never been blessed with a wonderful relationship with his parents due to their lack of understanding with his OCD but then they all closed off from each other completely after what happened with Thomas. Everything changed after that.

“I just don't want to see her,” Athos admitted, rubbing the soap into his fingers. “And I'm busy. I'm seeing the lawyer on Monday, hopefully we'll start work on a new case next week, we have to see Ninon towards the end of the week...and it's just stupid and inconvenient...” The more Athos spoke, the more furiously he scrubbed at his hands until Porthos came up behind him and placed his own hands gently on Athos' bare arms which made Athos suddenly aware of what he had been doing. 

“Yeah it's very inconvenient when someone dies,” Porthos mentioned gently into his ear.

Athos immediately felt defensive. “That's not what I meant but my mother only cares because she's hoping for money in the will and she doesn't want people whispering about how she didn't even care enough to go the funeral and she only wants me to go because she doesn't like going places by herself. She wants everyone to believe that we're still the perfect, happy family. Image is everything to my mother. That's why she wants me there.”

He began to wash the soap off so that he could start washing his hands for a second time when Porthos let go of his arms.

“Then let me come with you.”

Athos paused, his hands still underneath the water as he met Porthos' gaze behind him using the mirror.

“That's a terrible idea,” Athos pointed out. 

“I know, that's why we should do it,” Porthos sounded quiet certain of his suggestion which caused Athos to actually consider it. His mother was still in denial about the fact he even had a boyfriend. If he turned up with Porthos, someone who didn't speak like they did, didn't come from the 'right' kind of family, was gay and not to mention black, it would give his mother the shock of her life. It was...perfect. Athos began to smirk.

“Perhaps it is time I introduced you to my mother. Porthos, I...” Athos nodded towards the door. He had pulled his arms out of the water and stopped washing. “...close the door a second,” he whispered loudly. Porthos stepped over and did so, slowly so that Aramis wouldn't hear.

“What?” Porthos whispered back.

Honesty time, Athos decided. Porthos did want to be told everything after all. “What Aramis said earlier, about the church. He implied that something had happened to him, right?”

Porthos nodded. “We already suspected something did. Why else would a fourteen year old run away from home? Didn't your ex say something about Father Vincent?”

“Yes but didn't you hear what he said? He said they, not he, they. There may have been one more than person who abused him.”

Porthos clearly hadn't noticed and scrunched up his face in the way he did when he was thinking. “And I guess we don't even know for sure he's even talking about Father Vincent.”

“No, indeed, would you...would you be annoyed if I did a bit of investigating on the side about this? I want to find out who hurt him.”

“Annoyed?” Porthos appeared to be surprised by the statement. “Course I won't be annoyed. I wanna help.”

Athos nodded, relieved. 

“But,” Porthos interrupted his thoughts. “For now, can we please just have a nice weekend with him? You know he loves being around us and I love being around the pair of you. I want to just do that.”

“Of course,” Athos said and wiped his hands dry on a towel. It didn't even occur to him until he followed Porthos out of the bathroom that he had only washed his hands once and it didn't even bother him.


	26. The Bed

Athos once again found himself in hell or, as other people tended to call it, a clothes shop. Porthos was holding up a blue cashmere sweater and Athos was being stubborn as he gripped five packs of shirts closely to his chest.

“No,” he said for the umpteenth time and wondered if Porthos was even listening to him.

“It'll suit you though, it's your colour.”

“No,” Athos repeated, beginning to accept the fact he was sounding like a parrot which had only learnt one word. Porthos then appeared to be temporarily distracted by Aramis asking him something about trouser length from around the other side of the clothes rail, before turning his attention back to Athos. Athos, far too late, realised that had been his chance to escape but he had been too slow to take full advantage of it.

“It's dark blue though, so it's different to your other one.”

“For the love of god, Porthos, no!”

“You not gonna even try it on?”

Athos glanced at the exit across the store longingly. Only he hadn't paid for the shirts yet so he decided to try another tact and use more words.

“I don't want that sweater.”

“Why?”

“Because I don't. Because...other people would have...”

Porthos raised an eyebrow. “Other people would have what? Have the same one? I didn't realise you were so fashion conscious.”

“No, tried it on,” Athos explained in a hushed voice.

Something obviously clicked in Porthos' head. “Ooooh,” he said and then glanced down at the shirts Athos was carrying, each in their own plastic wrapping. “Oooooh.” He hung the sweater back onto the rack. “I see. You know we could always just wash it when we get...”

“NO!”

“Alright, alright,” Porthos left the sweater with a chuckle and then turned his attention back to Aramis who already had managed to get distracted from just buying clothes for work thanks to the male sales assistant who seemed to have taken a shine to him, as everyone tended to whenever they went out anywhere. Although the sweet thing about it, Athos mused, was that Aramis appeared to have no-idea why everyone was drawn to him.

“Do you think so?” he was asking the assistant who was clearly standing in Aramis' personal space like they often did in suit-fitting places. Aramis was wearing a black jacket over his usual clothes which even Athos could see was too long at the sleeves. 

“Yes,” said the sales assistant, smiling at Aramis like a shark circling its prey. “You can wear the black jacket over everything, not just shirts. Some men wear them over casual clothes as well. It makes them look stylish.” Aramis didn't seem to understand the concept of stylish and creased his face up in confusion.

“No, I...I've already got what I need I think. But thank you for your suggestions. You've been really helpful.” 

Aramis smiled sweetly and the sales assistant looked like he was about to say something else when he noticed Porthos lingering close-by, now watching them both with a jealous frown on his face, which caused the sales assistant to move away.

“I'll just be over here if you need me then,” he said and found his next victim in another young male customer.

Aramis pulled off the jacket and hung it back up carefully.

“I don't think I want it,” he pointed out to Porthos who had now come even closer.

“Then just get the rest of it. Two shirts and two trousers will be just fine if you're only going to do a couple of shifts a week.”

Aramis nodded. “Yeah and I won't last very long. They won't want me once they know I can't do it.”

Porthos let out a long suffering sigh. “We really need to work on your confidence. Come on then, to the counter for all of us.”

They all headed over there and promptly paid for their purchases then, ladened up with bags, headed back towards where they had parked the car. Athos himself was desperate to get back to the house to find the names of the detectives who had worked on the Father Vincent case. He needed to see if they were still in the police force and arrange a meeting with them. He had that on his mind the entire journey home and, the second they were in the house, after placing his shoes down where they needed to go, he raced upstairs. 

“Where's Athos going?” he heard Aramis say and hoped that Porthos would come up with some excuse instead, however, he heard the response which was...

“I dunno, I'll go get him.”

Athos quickly placed his new shirts on his white shirt shelf in the wardrobe, then sat on the bed and pulled out his notebook from the beside table. He flicked through the pages until he found the names he had written down a couple of weeks before. The names of the two lead detectives on the Father Vincent case; Roussel and Leroux, both detectives from another Paris district. Athos knew Roussel a little, she was a decent woman and a good detective. He didn't know who Leroux was though, perhaps he or she had retired since the case. 

A shadow appeared at the doorway and Athos looked up to discover Porthos inhabiting the space with his arms folded.

“Are you working?” he asked accusingly. 

“No,” Athos protested. He didn't have his laptop out so he hoped he'd get away with the lie. “I'm just checking something.”

“What are you checking if you're not working?”

“Umm house stuff. I'm trying to find the name of a good housing agency someone told me about.”

Porthos chuckled and unfolded his arms as he came into the room. “You're such a bad liar.” He didn't sound upset though, he sat down on the bed next to Athos. “But yes, we do need to sort out the housing issue. Maybe tomorrow we could look through some rental websites together?”

“Okay.” He quickly closed the notebook before Porthos read it. He felt fingers in his hair, brushing some wayward strands behind his ear. It reminded him that he needed a haircut because it did get rather out of control if he let it get too long.

“Are you alright?” Porthos asked softly. “I know there's a lot going on. Are you coping?”

Athos wasn't sure how to respond to the question; he had barely had the chance to sit back and consider how he was coping. Although, now he was being asked, there was something that quickly occurred to him.

“Well my OCD hasn't been as bad recently,” he pointed out, much to his own surprise more than anything. “Even with a dog in the house.” 

“Yeah that's true. I have noticed but I didn't want to say anything just because you might start getting anxious about the fact you haven't been as anxious.”

Athos looked at Porthos, who had those cute dimples on his face which Athos worshiped so much, and smiled back. Porthos understood him, more than anyone ever had in his life. Porthos understood him because he had taken the time to understand him and that meant more to Athos than anything. If only he could express those thoughts to Porthos about it but perhaps he didn't have to, maybe Porthos just knew.

“I love it when you smile. I might have mentioned that before,” Porthos said and bent his head down to give Athos a tender kiss on the lips. Only the tenderness only lasted a few seconds because it soon gave-way to passion. Athos moaned in delight and accepted the enthusiastic lips. It wasn't long before there were hands groping his arse and, as Porthos fell back to lie down onto the bed, he tugged Athos on top of him. Athos dropped the notebook and straddled Porthos' lap to lie down on Porthos' warm body and kiss the man further, their tongues dueling vigorously as firm fingers squeezed his arse cheeks.

“Can I hang my...”

A voice from behind them made the kiss come to an abrupt halt. Athos panted as he turned his head to look over his shoulder at Aramis who was standing in the doorway with his new trousers across his arm, now gawking at them both with his mouth open wide. 

“Come here,” Porthos said from below. Athos turned back, wondering who Porthos was talking to and discovered that his eyes were on Aramis. “Come on,” he encouraged.

“Am I...allowed?” A nervous voice came from behind again. Athos tried to move to get off Porthos but the hands on his arse kept a firm grip. 

“Yeah you are.”

The trousers were obviously discarded somewhere because Aramis eventually appeared beside the bed without them. For a man whose life had been, up to this point, all about sex, Aramis looked terribly unsure of himself. Athos wanted to reach out and soothe him but Porthos got there first.

“Come on,” he said, reaching out his hand until Aramis took it. Porthos then seemed to gently tug Aramis onto the bed and the man obliged. He crawled on until he was kneeling there beside them. This time when Aramis tried to roll off Porthos, Porthos didn't stop him. Athos ended up lying on his side next to Porthos and watched as Porthos gently guided Aramis down onto the bed until Aramis was on his back.

“Don't try to please us,” Porthos said gently. “Just enjoy yourself, okay?”

Aramis nodded, although Athos assumed that Aramis would agree to anything because it was Aramis. However he did submit by closing his eyes as Porthos leaned over him and kissed him. Athos watched with deep fascination as the two men kissed. Aramis almost straining up towards Porthos as Porthos moved his mouth gently and rhythmically. Aramis seemed to move his arm and reached for something down below, although Athos couldn't see what he was doing because Porthos' body was in the way but Porthos grabbed Aramis' hand, locked their fingers together and then brought the hand back up to pin it down onto the bed beside Aramis' head. The action made Aramis moan and caused Porthos to pull his mouth away.

“You don't have to do that,” Porthos said, giving some indication in Athos' head to what Aramis had done. “Let me do it to you instead.”

Aramis nodded. “Whatever you want,” he whispered. Porthos suddenly looked a little sad as he stared down at Aramis but then he seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts and he turned his head to look over at Athos for the first time since Aramis had appeared.

“Come over here and kiss him, would you?”

Athos moved without even thinking, happy to assist. He wanted to give Aramis all of the attention as well. 

He waited for Porthos to clamber over onto Aramis' opposite side, gently shoving Aramis to encourage him to move into the middle of the bed. Aramis did so, quickly and compliantly, before turning his head and giving Athos a sweet smile. Athos bent forward and kissed the smile. Aramis immediately moaned again and kissed Athos back. Aramis' kisses were delightful; so eager and yet sensual. Neither of them rushed, they just took their time getting to know how the others person liked to be kissed.

Athos reached out with his hand and ran his fingers through some of Aramis' curls just before Aramis began to gasp and his body appeared to move. Athos pulled away from the kiss wondering what was going on. He locked eyes with Porthos briefly before discovering that Porthos had undone Aramis' jeans and he had his hand down inside them. His fist seemed to be moving slowly judging by the lump going up and down underneath the clothes. Porthos winked at Athos.

“Let's make him happy, yeah?”

Athos nodded, understanding. He really wanted to do just that. He wanted to make Aramis the centre of their attention and show the man that it wasn't always about giving and sometimes he could take. He turned back to Aramis who still had his eyes closed, he was biting onto his bottom lip and whimpering with arousal. Athos did debate kissing him again but he was worried that he might get his own lip bitten so he decided to try something else. He pushed up Aramis' jumper and leaned down to kiss at the tender skin covering his stomach. Muscles immediately twitched and it earned him another loud noise from up above. Aramis certainly was vocal.

He made a path of kisses up Aramis' stomach and then tugged his jumper up even more to reveal his chest. Holding up the jumper with both hands, Athos spread more kisses along the middle of the man's chest before moving across to find a nipple. He teased it with his tongue, wiggling the tip against the nipple which caused a hand to suddenly grab his hair and grip on tightly. Athos didn't mind, Aramis could do whatever he wanted and he took the fact he was having his hair grabbed as a good sign.

“Feels good,” Aramis was whispering. “Please, feels so good, don't stop.”

Athos wasn't sure who Aramis was talking to, perhaps both of them. He lifted his head briefly to glance down and discover that Porthos had now pulled Aramis free from his jeans and was pumping him furiously. The sight made Athos start to harden in his own trousers. He wanted to bend his head down there and take it in his mouth, to suck Aramis furiously, but they didn't want to kill the poor man. The noises Aramis made were quite captivating and Athos found himself just wanted to listen. So, leaving him exposed, Athos moved back up top and nibbled on Aramis' jaw and then sucked on the skin around his neck so he could hear the noises in his ear. Aramis reached out and tugged on Athos' clothes, pulling his shirt out of his trousers before Aramis' hands were moving everywhere. 

“Do you want Athos to get undressed?” Porthos asked, the question really didn't help Athos remain calm.

“Y-yes,” Aramis stuttered so Athos took his cue. This was about what Aramis wanted after all. He pulled away to undo the buttons of his shirt. He managed to get them all undone quickly and pulled his shirt open, which was when he realised that Aramis now had his eyes open and he was watching intently. Athos pulled his shift off his arms.

“What do you want now?” he asked Aramis, playing along with the game. 

“Whatever you want to do,” Aramis answered, eyes wide and glassy. 

“No,” Athos shook his head from side to side slowly. “What do you want?” 

Aramis appeared to think about it, his body twitching every couple of seconds as Porthos continued to stroke him. “Can you kiss me again?” was all that was eventually asked. 

“I'd be delighted,” Athos responded. He had been expecting a far more dirty request but, if kissing was what Aramis wanted, then he was happy to do that. Athos lay back down, covering Aramis' chest with his own and kissed him. Mouth opening and closing, tongue teasing and exploring, he caught every single moan, groan and whimper. Aramis' wrap his arm around him at some stage, first fingers were attempting to grip onto his back but then they were back in Athos' hair again. Aramis was obviously a hair-grabber and Athos didn't mind. 

When Athos pulled away because his lips were starting to feel bruised, Aramis scrunched his face up like he was in pain. Athos, for a brief moment, wondered if he was until Aramis suddenly arched his back, opened his mouth and gasped. Athos felt something warm hitting his side and he quickly rolled off to move out of the way and continued to study Aramis' face as he let himself go. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen Aramis looking so expressive, it was really quite beautiful. Once the tension left had his body, he seemed to sink into the mattress with a serene smile on his face. Then, as if a switch flicked in his head, he suddenly pushed himself up onto his elbows

“Can I make you happy now?” he asked Porthos then his gaze darted over to Athos. He almost looked desperate. “I'll do whatever you want and you can do whatever you want to me.”

“No, no, no,” Porthos shook his head as he attempted to tuck Aramis back into his jeans. “That's not what this is about.” 

“But I can do it now.”

“No, Aramis, it's okay. You don't have to.”

“I want to,” Aramis suddenly reached out for Porthos' jeans and tried to undo them. It seemed frantic, Athos wanted to reach out and stop him but Porthos did it instead, grabbing a hold of his wrists like they had done so many times before to stop Aramis.

“Aramis, calm down. Listen to me,” Porthos paused and waited for Aramis to stop moving and look up at him. “The first thing we need to do is wipe you up because Athos is in this bed and that's how it works with Athos. Then we can all make each other happy. This isn't going to be one-sided of you pleasing us.”

“But I just let you please me. I just let you. So now I can do it back.”

Porthos sighed and sat back, rubbing at his beard. Athos felt the same. Let them? Oh, Aramis. Beautiful, Aramis. Did he ever think about himself?

“Come on, let's go clean you up.” 

Porthos tugged Aramis off the bed and guided the confused man into the bathroom. Athos remained in the bedroom, still topless but now slightly less hard. He got up off the bed to fetch the packet of wet-wipes and promptly cleaned up his rib-cage. Porthos was right after all, Athos didn't like mess. Then he looked around for his notepad and opened it up again, remembering the names of the detective's, very determined to find whoever had caused Aramis to think in the way he did. Roussel and Leroux, he'd try and contact them in the morning. 

Porthos and Aramis seemed to be talking in the bathroom but Athos couldn't really hear what they were saying. He just put the notepad back into the bedside table drawer and got up to place his dirty shirt into the washing-basket and grab a clean one out of the cupboard. He was doing up the buttons when Aramis and Porthos returned.

“He has something he wants to explain. I promise we'd be patient and listen,” Porthos told Athos and went to sit on the bed leaving Aramis, now fully clothed again, standing in front of them both seemingly a little bit nervous as he fiddled with his fingers in front of his stomach. Athos nodded and returned to the bed to sit down next to Porthos, leaning back against the pillows and patiently waiting.

“I...wanted to say that I did really enjoy what you both just did. I really liked it.” He smiled a little, blushing at the same time. Athos felt relieved hearing him express himself like that. 

“That's good,” Athos encouraged with a small smile. “We want you to like it.”

Aramis looked pleased and let out a breath he had obviously been holding. “I just...this is just strange. You're both great and I'm really, really happy that you let me do that with you. I'm sorry that I say the wrong things sometimes.”

“You don't really,” Porthos pointed out. “You don't say the wrong thing, it's not your fault. We're probably just over-sensitive to the things you say as well. We're really worried about why you do the things you do because we want to make sure you're doing it for the right reasons.”

“No I...” Aramis lurched forward towards the bed. “...I've been wishing that you'd both invite me into your bed for ages. But making you happy will make me happy. Why isn't that okay?”

“It is okay” Porthos explained and opened his arms. Aramis crawled onto the bed and fell into them. “It's fine to want to make us happy, mate. As long as it's all equal and you allow us to make you as happy as you make us.”

“You did make me happy,” Aramis grinned and got up onto his knees facing Porthos. “Couldn't you tell?” he chuckled, cupped Porthos' face with his hands and then leaned forward for a kiss. Porthos kissed him back, smiling against his lips. 

I think we're getting somewhere, Athos thought with a secret sense of happiness as he watched the pair of them. It hadn't been that long, all things considered in the span of Aramis' entire life, yet he was already starting to understand that he was allowed to want things for himself and he was allowed to ask for it.

“Aramis,” Porthos said with he pulled back, reaching up to stroke back some of the curls. “Tomorrow we're going to start looking at rental places to move into for a while before maybe buying somewhere larger.”

“Larger?” Aramis raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, so you can have your own room and the living-room can be a living-room again.”

“My own room?” Aramis said, repeating everything and looking surprised.

“Do you want that?” Athos asked, remembering Ninon's words once again, trying to find out what Aramis was thinking.

Aramis looked over at him, he seemed unsure about what to say. “You...you want me to have my own room, in your house?”

Oh dear, was this about the sharing a bed thing again? Was Aramis about to get upset?

“I...well...” Athos didn't want to make him feel left-out. “It's a step-up from sleeping on the sofa-bed.”

“That's...wow.” Aramis sat back on his legs, his eyes darting between the pair of them. “You want me to stay with you?”

Porthos chuckled. “You know we do.”

Aramis' eyes began to look decidedly wet and when he blinked a tear rolled down his cheek which was promptly wiped away by the sleeve of his sweater. Porthos reached out for his arm and pulled him against his chest, Aramis fell forward into Porthos' lap.

“I hope those are happy tears, mate,” Porthos said, giving him a squeeze. 

“I don't understand, none of this makes sense,” came the small voice of Aramis as he rested his chin on Porthos' shoulder.

“What doesn't make sense?” Athos asked, tilting his head to look at him. Aramis went quiet as he thought about it but eventually came out with an explanation.

“You're both being so nice and you haven't even fucked me yet.”

Athos shamefully found Aramis' confused thoughts rather endearing.

“Because we like you as a person,” Porthos pointed out. “The fact you're also gorgeous is just an added bonus but we'd want you here even if we were never allowed to have sex with you.”

“Why?” Aramis asked, pulling his face back to look at Porthos. “What would be the point of having me around?”

“What would be the point of...” Porthos sighed and looked incredibly sad. “Because you're a wonderful person, Aramis. You're kind and sweet. You've got a really wonderful heart and you're great to be around. Do you not see all this about yourself?”

“But I'm a slut, that's all I'm good for.”

Porthos flinched at the words and suddenly grabbed Aramis by the shoulders, he had such a good hold that Aramis wouldn't have been-able to move even if he had tried.

“Who told you that?” Porthos demanded.

“N-no-one told me,” Aramis stuttered, staring at Porthos in shock. 

“Yeah they did,” Porthos was almost growling and Athos pushed himself away from the pillows, wondering if he should intervene although knowing full well Porthos wouldn't hurt him. Porthos wouldn't hurt anyone...unless they really deserved it. “Those aren't your words, those are words people have put into your head.”

“I know what I am, Porthos. I know it's all I can do.”

“You're talking nonsense,” Porthos grumbled sternly. “This is nonsense. Stop thinking like that.”

“I don't know how else to think!” 

And it was those words which ended the conversation abruptly and silence filled the room. Aramis watched Porthos for a while until Porthos lowered his gaze and appeared upset. When Aramis then turned to Athos, Athos attempted to give him a reassuring smile.

“Our brains just work a little differently,” he said to Aramis, attempting to comfort him with a bit of solidarity again. “There's nothing wrong with that.”

“I don't think Porthos likes the fact our brains work differently,” Aramis pointed out before staring back at Porthos as if waiting for a reaction. Porthos offered up a sad smile.

“Thankfully Porthos has the patience of a saint,” Athos said with a lot of honesty. “It just makes him sad when you say things like that. It makes us both sad. But it doesn't change what we think of you. All the stuff Porthos said about you, it's very true. Hopefully one day you'll believe it.”


	27. The Lawyer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [I know nothing about French law so figure me if most of this chapter is based on British law and probably, even then, completely incorrect...]

Athos woke up downstairs on the sofa-bed feeling groggy and squashed. He vaguely remembered getting ready for bed and then watching a movie. They must have all fallen asleep; they were all getting old. Aramis was currently clinging to Athos like a limpet as he slept and Athos felt bad knowing that he'd have to move him in a minute because it was Monday which meant he had to go down to the courthouse.

“Aramis?” he called gently, trying to wake the man up. It only caused Aramis to mumbled, grip Athos around the waist tighter and bury his face into Athos' neck. Alright, just one minute more, Athos decided. He allowed himself to doze but something moving on the bed got his attention. Opening up his eyes instantly he came face-to-face with a big black nose and a wet red tongue.

“Frodo!” Athos screeched, freaked out that the dog was right there on the bed. He forgot about Aramis then, scrambling up to get away from the dog he shoved himself up against the back of the sofa-bed, unable to get away. His heart was pounding as the dog barked excitedly and wagged its tail.

“Hey, it's okay,” another voice said and Aramis appeared with his hair sticking up in various directions. “Frodo, get down.”

With an encouraging shove, Aramis pushed Frodo away until the dog jumped off the bed and continued to bark with excitement on the carpet.

“He just wants to say hello,” Aramis pointed out. “And, probably, let me out I need to pee.”

Aramis smiled at Athos but Athos was unable to smile back; his fingers were gripping at the bed-sheet and he was trying to remember how to breathe. 

“Hey, you're okay,” Aramis said before seemingly thumping the snoring Porthos without even looking. “You're okay.”

Athos didn't feel okay and the dog wouldn't stop barking. The dog which had been on the bed with them. Had it been there the whole night? That would mean that dog-hairs and germs would be everywhere. All over the bed and all over their bodies. All over their skin. Athos looked down at his arm and began to scratch, he felt sick. 

“Porthos!” Aramis shouted and this time Porthos snorted but Athos was no longer looking at them, his chest was beginning to tighten as his lungs went into overdrive, he wheezed and clawed at his skin. Aramis said something else to Porthos but Athos couldn't hear it over the dog barking and blood pumping through his ears. Aramis left then, he clambered off the bed and was replaced by Porthos looking half-asleep but kneeling right there in front of him.

“Calm down, deep breaths for me. Let's get you into the bathroom.”

The barking was starting to get quieter and Athos realised that Aramis was taking Frodo away. Then there were hands on his wrists, holding them firmly to stop him from scratching. Athos tried to free his hands at first but then he found himself being tugged off the bed. Athos just went with it, feeling somewhat safe in the knowledge that Porthos was taking care of him. The journey up to the bathroom was a bit of a dizzy blur but Athos soon found himself standing on the white bathroom mat, watching Porthos open up the shower cubicle and turn the water on. He began to shiver even though he was still wearing his boxers and a t-shirt. He also had pins and needles in his hands and his legs were barely keeping him standing.

“Slow your breathing down, love,” Porthos said then, coming back to help him pull his T-shirt off. Athos managed to lift his arms at least, before crossing them over his chest which he could feel was rising and falling far too fast. He couldn't slow his breathing down, he could barely breathe at all. He felt scared that it wasn't going to stop this time, that he wouldn't be-able to do it. His legs felt like jelly and they began to wobble. Athos started to tumble but Porthos' strong arms took him instead and suddenly he was being pulled against a secure, steady body.

“Calm down, deep breaths, come on, Athos,” a voice whispered into his ear as he was held tightly.

“I c-can't,” Athos gasped out as he tried to fight for air.

“You can. Come on, shower, let's clean it all off.”

Athos was almost carried underneath the hot water. He was still wearing his underwear but that was only a passing thought as he stood underneath the spray, hand reaching out for the tiles before he fell over. He tried to count the air in and out in his lungs.

“Need a paper-bag?” Porthos asked but Athos shook his head. He closed his eyes because of the dizziness and just focused on counting. In...one...two...three...out...one...two...three...

“I feel sick,” he warned once he could finally speak. The horrible queasy feeling in his stomach hadn't let up.

“If you need to spew, you just spew, love. I can wash the shower afterwards.”

Athos nodded but kept his eyes tightly shut as he leaned forward, water pounding against the back of his head and his spine as he continued concentrating on his breathing. He felt something being rubbed gently onto his back; soap. The thought of being cleaned and getting the dog germs off was a huge relief. 

They both remained quiet as Porthos washed him and Athos just focused on getting control back. After what felt like an age, he was breathing slowly in through his nose and then out through his mouth. Eventually he was able to stand up straight and slowly he opened his eyes again. His vision was a little blurry but nothing was spinning around him anymore. 

“Is that better?” Porthos asked from behind. Athos nodded his head and turned a little to face him. Porthos, completely naked, used the opportunity to rub soap into Athos' chest. 

“I'm gonna get you nice and clean, ay? We spoke too soon about the dog thing, huh?” Porthos pointed out with a smile.

“I'm sorry,” Athos responded, feeling thoroughly ashamed and embarrassed about the whole thing.

“Hey,” Porthos looked at him sternly. “Never apologise for who you are. Ever.”

“I'm just a...freak,” Athos admitted. What was wrong with him? It was just a damn dog. Lots of people lived perfectly fine with dogs and didn't have panic attacks over dog-hairs.

Porthos tutted. “No you're not but, even if you were, you'd be my freak so that would be okay.” 

“It was just...it was on the bed,” Athos explained, trying to figure out for himself what had happened; why the panic attack had been so sudden and intense. “It shocked me.”

“I know,” Porthos said, rubbing liquid soap across Athos' shoulders and over his arms. “I know. Just keep breathing slowly, okay? Don't think about the dog for a moment.”

So Athos did, until his exhausted body had completely calmed down and he was breathing normally again. It was then that he realised he was still in his underwear which was now soaked-through but he didn't care. He stood there and allowed Porthos to clean him. It felt good.

“What time are you meeting this lawyer?” Porthos asked, bringing up a new subject. 

The question forced Athos to re-engage his brain. “Around midday. I think I'm taking her to lunch.”

Porthos snorted. “You're taking a woman to lunch? If it was anyone apart from you I'd be jealous. But it's you, so it's okay.”

“I have no-idea what you mean by that,” Athos muttered and sunk forward, needing Porthos' arms once more because it was tiring standing on his own two feet.

“I love you,” Porthos said, holding Athos tightly and squeezing him. “We'll have a lazy morning, then you can dash off. All you gotta do is tell her that Aramis ain't doing it.”

“I know,” Athos whispered. He didn't really want to talk about it. He just wanted to escape to a world where Porthos could hold him all day long.

A loud knock on the bathroom door eventually brought them both back to reality. Athos reluctantly removed himself from the embrace. 

“Yeah?” Porthos yelled over the noise of the water. Athos attempted to peer through the steamed-up shower glass and watched as the bathroom door slowly opened and a mop of curly brown hair was just about visible.

“Is Athos okay?” a worried voice asked.

“He's alive and well,” Porthos responded, smiling at Athos as if he was making sure.

“Oh...good...okay...umm...you know I was thinking...we could ask Constance if she'd like to have Frodo...because...”

Athos immediately felt awful, as much as he hated living with the dog there was absolutely no-way he wanted to take it away from Aramis. He knew full well how much of a comfort Aramis found the creature. Not to mention the fact Constance wouldn't want it. He leaned forward and slid open the shower cubicle slightly to peek out. 

“No, that's not necessary,” he said to Aramis who then appeared to blush and suddenly didn't seem to know where to look. “Frodo is fine where he is. It was just the shock. I'm fine now, honestly.”

“Oh umm...” Aramis was apparently finding the floor very interesting all of a sudden, obviously not realising that Athos had underwear on but, then again, who wore underwear in the shower? “If you're sure?” He glanced up again although his eyes only stayed on Athos' face for a second, before moving down Athos' body and then looking away again.

“More than sure,” Athos informed him and closed the door, shamefully a little aroused by the fact Aramis had been looking.

“I'll make breakfast!” Was the final yell from Aramis before he left the bathroom.

“He's very shy. You know...considering. I swear he was just blushing,” Athos commented. Then again nothing about Aramis tended to make much sense.

“I'm not sure I'd call him shy considering the amount of times I used to have to fight off his advances, but I know what you mean. He doesn't have any confidence in himself which makes him all confused about how to act a lot of the time.”

Athos nodded. Porthos was being his usual insightful self. 

“Anyway, he was probably just flustered,” Porthos pointed out with a wink. “When I see you naked, I get all flustered too.”

“You do?” Athos asked, it was a genuine question.

“Yes, you idiot. I'm getting all flustered being here with you now but I know you just had a panic attack so it ain't exactly the right moment.”

“Oh I don't know,” Athos pointed out. “Distraction is the key.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around Porthos' neck. Porthos chuckled and grinned back.

\----------------------------------------------

Athos walked into the court-house a few minutes before mid-day and spoke to the friendly lady at reception. She seemed to know who Anne Mauricia was and said that she'd point Anne in his direction once she had finished in the court-room. So Athos went over to the uncomfortable stone benches to wait. He had missed a call whilst driving and it appeared to be from the doctors so he quickly called them back. 

“Hello? I'm calling about the tests results for Rene d'Herblay.”

He heard the faint tapping of a keyboard and waited patiently. 

“Yes, he needs to come in and see the doctor who will go through the test results.”

That didn't sound good.

“Umm fine, what do you have available this week?”

More clicking and tapping. “I just had a cancelled appointment for tomorrow afternoon. Twenty to four?”

“Fine,” Athos had no-idea what he was doing tomorrow but this seemed more important. “Please book him in for that time. Thank you.”

After hanging-up the worry hit Athos like a freight-train. What if it was something bad? What if Aramis had HIV? That was the last thing Aramis needed in his life. Athos stared down at the phone which was shaking in his hand. Why was the phone shaking? No, his hand was shaking. It was probably nothing, he told himself sternly. Probably just something simple which can be easily sorted. Or perhaps the doctor just wanted to check on Aramis. He had said that Aramis was a little underweight after all. It could be a million things, no point in panicking until they had discovered what they needed to panic about. Athos nodded at himself to affirm his decision to stop worrying and shoved his phone back into the inside pocket of his jacket to wait patiently for Anne to appear. 

Athos knew most of the lawyers in Paris but he didn't know Anne, which had him assuming that she must be new. He thought she was going to be late until he noticed the receptionist pointing over to him whilst talking to a young woman at the desk. The woman smiled at Athos then came over. She was young, really young. Or perhaps she just looked young. A petite, pretty blond who had a sweet smile but...god she was young. Was this the person they had put onto Marsac's case? They needed someone with experience, not someone straight out of law school. Athos felt annoyed about it but stood up anyway to greet her politely.

“Detective Sergeant de la Fere?” she asked, even though she must have already known.

“Yes, please call me Athos,” he insisted and shook her hand. She was still smiling, showing off her dimples which Athos was quite certain would melt many hearts. 

“Are we still going to lunch? There's a lovely little place just a short walk from here.”

Athos didn't mind where they went or what they did, as long as they had the chance to talk. So he nodded and he was taken to a restaurant across the road from the court-house. Judging by the familiarity of the waiting staff to Anne she had obviously frequented the place often. They were even offered one of the best tables beside the window would be helpful for privacy considering the intended nature of their conversation.

“Shall I just get straight into it?” Anne asked after they had ordered a starter and a main. Athos nodded, pleased that Anne had already picked up on the fact he wasn't one for small-talk. In fact he had been rather rudely staring at her as he tried to figure out how old she was. 

“Marsac was denied bail due to the violent nature of his attack on Aramis. The hearing has been set for two months time.”

The news shocked Athos as usually he would obsessively follow his cases through the court proceedings but he had been so caught up in everything else going on, including looking after Aramis, that he hadn't even realised Marsac's bail hearing had already happened. Still, denied bail, that was a very good thing.

“Okay,” Athos said, trying not to give away his emotions on the subject. He was here as a detective after all, nothing more than that. Anne absolutely couldn't find out about their relationship with Aramis. “But Phillipe Roche has gone missing?”

“Yes,” Anne said, her eyebrows knotting closer together. “I've got a private investigator trying to find him but, the fact he has run away, rather provides us with a clear indication he doesn't want to testify against Marsac.”

“So where does that leave the case?”

“Well...” Anne paused and smiled up at the waiter as he brought some olives and bread over. She then picked up an olive with a cocktail stick and ate it quickly before responding. “...he's pleading not guilty to all charges which I was expecting to be honest. I know that they'll try to argue the attempted murder down to grievous bodily harm which can still carry a high sentence but his solicitor will claim it was a crime of passion and not malice. They'll also argue that his confession to you about owning brothels happened when he was in a state of shock but I'm pretty confidence that I have enough evidence from you and Vice to get him for section 53 of the sexual offences act for controlling prostitution for gain. But, because I can't find any evidence of human trafficking or anything under-age going on, I can't add anything to it. If he's found guilty of that, his sentence for it could be anything from a community order to seven years in custody.” 

“What does his mean?” Athos asked, needing a summary on all of the information she had given him so far. What did this mean? That Marsac could away with a community order? Surely not. He watched her eat another olive before telling him.

“If he's found guilty of GBH, which he will be because I have both you and your partner finding him next to the victim and clear physical evidence on both of them, that will most likely be five to ten years. Add that to the controlling prostitution which is maximum of seven years...well it will really depend on which judge we get. I reckon we should count ourselves very lucky if he's sentenced to twelve.”

“Twelve years?!” Athos spat. He hadn't even eaten his starter, he wasn't remotely hungry and he wasn't sure if he could trust that the cutlery was clean either. “Twelve years maximum? So he'll be out in eight or nine. This man has been working as a pimp for over a decade. He's violent, dangerous and he's also a well-known drug-dealer. And we're going to let him back out onto the streets in a few short years?”

“That's the problem,” Anne said, slightly raising the level of her voice to match Athos'. “I need to get him on the drugs but I can't. It's all just rumours. Giles isn't budging. Roche was going to be our key witness and he promised to give me the extra evidence I needed. This is why I need Aramis to take the stand and I need to talk to him about getting some concrete evidence.”

Athos sighed, calming down. For Aramis' sake he needed to keep a clear head on his. “Aramis barely knows anything about the drug side of things. I mean he knew it was happening but he doesn't know enough to get you any hard evidence.”

“But, if I can at least get a couple of people on the stand saying that Marsac gave them drugs...”

“Marsac was up there,” Athos interrupted, holding his hand up in the air. “He had middle-men like Roche and Giles doing the hands-on stuff with the drugs. We need to get the middle men to give evidence against Marsac. No-one's going to believe drug-addicts.”

“I know but we won't get the middle-men,” Anne pointed out. “Getting some of the prostitutes to talk really is our best shot.”

“Aramis won't do it...”

“Then let me ask him who he knows that might.” Anne sighed and sat back in her seat a little. “Athos, I have a list of names from your team and Vice which covers who has been arrested in Marsac's brothels over the years but goodness knows where they all are now. It could take me weeks to track them down and this goes to court in two months. One quick chat with Aramis and I might be-able to find these people in minutes.”

“Aramis doesn't...” Athos paused and sighed himself. Aramis actually might indeed know where the other prostitutes went, despite not having much contact with them since Marsac was arrested. Aramis would also be the perfect person to talk them into giving evidence. They wouldn't listen to the police or to a lawyer but they might listen to Aramis. Aramis' involvement did make sense, as much as Athos didn't want to admit it. Otherwise Marsac could be out in as little as a few years and the thought of that made Athos feel sick. He'd be out and he'd have access to Aramis again.

“I'll talk to him,” he promised quietly. Anne smiled and the tension in her body seemed to disappear.

“That's all I ask. I'm sorry. I'll try and get the maximum ten year sentence for grievous bodily harm. Perhaps Aramis could take the stand on that at least? Having the victim up there talking about how terrified they were and how they thought they were going to die...that would really help. Putting a face to the victim is really important for a jury.”

“I...” Athos paused to contemplate how to explain the situation. He obviously didn't want to make it clear that he was in a relationship with Aramis but he did want to explain why putting Aramis on the stand wasn't a good idea. “I don't know. Aramis is quite a vulnerable person. Sweet and caring, despite everything he has gone through. It's a miracle really. But, more than that, his relationship was Marsac was very emotionally abusive. I'm not sure he'd cope taking the stand and seeing Marsac right there staring at him.”

“We can coach him, support him...”

“I know,” Athos interrupted. “I just don't think it would be very good for him.”

Anne tilted her head to the side. “When I said that twelve years was the best we can hope for...there is a worst case scenario as well. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that.”

She was right, she was absolutely right. Athos had witnessed cases being thrown out of court due to a legal technicality. He'd seen guilty people being found not guilty by a jury. He had witnessed corrupt judges giving easy sentences to people who have committed horrific crimes. There was always a worst case scenario. Athos wanted Marsac locked away for a long time and if Aramis was the key to that...

“I'll talk to him,” Athos promised, mostly to give himself time and space to think. “I'll see what he wants to do.” Two months was a long time, perhaps Aramis would be-able to do it by then.

In order to avoid going straight home to Porthos and admit that his 'Aramis won't do it' meeting with the lawyer had gone slightly differently than planned, Athos went into the station instead. D'Artagnan and Constance were there, in fact d'Artagnan seemed overjoyed to see him.

“Athos! I haven't seen you in ages,” he grinned, immediately jumping up from his desk and knocking his pen holder over with his arm. He then scrambled to recover his pens which had now scattered across his desk as he continued talking. “How have you been? The Captain said you were taking a couple of days off.” 

Athos looked over at Constance who winked at him. As usual with the things Constance did, Athos wasn't sure what the wink was about. He was tempted to walk straight past the pair of them to see if Treville was in but something made him pause...he had barely spoken to d'Artagnan the last few days and he knew that the lad looked up to him for some unknown reason. He really needed to be a better mentor.

“I did but I'm back now,” he explained, bending down he assisted d'Artagnan and picked up a couple of pens. He couldn't stand seeing things on the floor. “Are you working hard?”

“Yes! We have a couple of cases!” d'Artagnan said before thanking Athos for the pens and shoving them all back into the holder. “One of them is two sisters who have disappeared. We don't think either are in danger, they've been contacting their friends on facebook, sounds like they just ran away but they're both underage so we're trying to find them. Constance has a bad feeling about their father. She thinks that perhaps he's abusive.”

Constance gave Athos a somewhat guilty look. “I know I shouldn't go on gut-feeling but...”

“No, you absolutely should,” Athos interrupted. “Always listen to gut-feeling but keep your options open for other possibilities. Did they run away at the same time?”

“Yup,” d'Artagnan told him. “And they packed clothes and personal items so it was planned. We've got people checking their computers as we speak.”

“Good,” Athos nodded and wondered if he could offer any advice with they wouldn't have thought of already. “Have you managed to talk to the mother by herself?”

“No, not yet,” Constance admitted.

“Might be worth attempting it. If you talk to her alone Constance she may open up to a woman without her husband around.”

“Yes, good idea, we can give that a try.”

Athos then promptly decided this he had done his duty as their sergeant and looked over at the door of Treville's office. 

“Is he in?”

D'Artagnan nodded. “Yeah, he just came back from some meeting which had him all huffing and puffing so you might want to give it a few minutes...although I bet he'll be glad to see you!”

Athos was about to bravely go over when Constance stopped him with another question. “How are things at home?”

It made Athos pause and he immediately feel defensive, but then he looked at Constance and reminded himself that she wasn't being nosy, she just cared. Still he wasn't about to pour his heart out to her.

“Fine, thank you,” he responded, which made her smile at least.

“Good. We're looking forward to having dinner with you all tomorrow.”

Athos raised an eyebrow. What was she talking about? “Dinner?”

“Yes,” she lifted her mobile phone up. “Porthos invited us both over.”

“He did?” Athos felt confused. Had Porthos mentioned it? He couldn't recall. Constance just seemed to chuckled at his baffled expression. “Great,” Athos then managed to push out. He wasn't sure if it was great at all but he obviously didn't have a lot of choice in the matter. “I need to see the Captain.”

Athos knocked on Treville's door and waited to be invited in. Treville was sitting at his desk staring at the computer-screen but looked up when Athos walked in and even managed a smile.

“Athos, how was your time off?” he asked politely.

“Tricky,” Athos admitted.

Treville chuckled. “Don't turn into a work-alcoholic like me. There's a reason why I've never managed to find a wife.”

“I thought that was because you had more sense,” Athos suggested dryly which made Treville laugh and he waved towards the chair. 

“Sit down, we need to catch up.”

“Yes, actually there's something I want to ask. Do you know Anne Mauricia? She's a new prosecution lawyer.”

Athos sat down and Treville paused to think for a moment before nodding. “Yes, as in I've heard of her although I've never met her. She's meant to be a decent lawyer. Top of her class at law school I think. She was snapped up and did some cooperate work for a while before coming to Paris to join the prosecution service. Which obviously means she doesn't do it for the money and I like those kinds of lawyers. Why do you ask?”

Athos contemplated the information for a moment and it resulted in some of his fears being lifted. To discover that she was smart and wasn't straight out of law-school made him feel slightly more confident in her abilities. He needed to stop being ageist.

“She has the Marsac case and I just had lunch with her. Phillipe Roche has gone missing. I was wondering if, perhaps, you would allow Porthos and I to continue working on the case and help her? As a side-line.”

Treville didn't response straight away. He sat there staring at Athos as if he was giving it some serious thought. Athos shifted a little in his seat, suddenly feeling anxious. Had he said the wrong thing? The silence lingered for so long that Athos was the one to break it.

“Captain?”

Treville seemed to break out or whatever thought-process he was going through. He sat back up straight in his chair and turned back to his computer-screen.

“Yes, Athos, that's fine. But I need you both to take on other cases as well.”

“We will, although there's something else...”

Treville turned back to him and raised a curious eyebrow. Athos was a little nervous about sharing this with Treville but honesty was the best policy and, if he had Treville on his side, it would make the investigation a little easier.

“Do you remember the Father Vincent case?” 

“Of course I do,” Treville responded.

“I have reason to be believe that there may have been another person involved. Possibly even more. I'd like the time and permission to look into that as well.”

Treville sighed, “Where has this come from?”

This time it was Athos' turn to hesitate. He wasn't sure how Treville would react if he told him the truth but, as it turned out, Treville already knew.

“Aramis?” Athos didn't respond so Treville carried on. “Athos, we have so many cases to solve right now. I need you to concentrate on some current crimes.”

“This could be a current one!” Athos protested. “There may well be someone out there still abusing children and the police have been letting them because we didn't investigate properly.”

Treville looked at him somewhat wearily. “I don't know why I find it so difficult to say no to you. Perhaps because you remind me so much of myself, but that's a topic for another day. You're going to do it even if I say no, so there's not much point in me saying no, is there?”

Athos smirked a little, Treville did know him too well.

“You have my permission. But, Athos, I need you here as well. I need you supervising Constance and d'Artagnan and I need both you and Porthos back in the office working your arses off for me. Do you understand?”

“Perfectly,” Athos responded.


	28. The Light Switch

When Athos got home, his mind racing with thoughts and worries due to the events of the day, he was pleased to step into a calm household. Porthos was sitting quietly at the kitchen-table leaning over a laptop and there was the faint noise of hoovering floating down from the top of the stairs. The moment Porthos spotted Athos he smiled broadly. 

“Hey, love. Come over here a minute. I've been looking at places to rent and found a couple of possibilities. This is a good one, although I'm not completely sure about the location.”

Athos went over, moved a chair close to Porthos and sat down. In truth he was pleased to be distracted from everything else by house hunting.

“It's an apartment above a row of local shops but the entrance is around the back which makes it a little more private. It's really large though and it has a nice balcony, look.”

Porthos showed him the pictures and Athos quickly agreed that the place did look nice. It had two large double bedrooms, a good sized bathroom, a light and airy living-room thanks to a generous amount of windows and the balcony was lovely; there was enough room for a breakfast table and possible a few plants.

“The down-side is that it doesn't have a garden for Frodo,” Porthos explained. “But it's close to a park and a metro station for Aramis to get around.”

“It looks nice, Porthos. Why don't you call up the agent to see if we go and have a look? And any others which you've found.”

Porthos appeared pleased with the interest Athos was showing and Athos was pleased that Porthos had taken it upon himself to find them all a place to live; it was one less thing for Athos to worry about. Porthos wrapped his arm around Athos' shoulders and pulled him close to kiss him on the side of the head.

“Aramis and I went food-shopping and I brought him a top-up for his phone, which is why he's cleaning to earn it back. You know he's mentioned your panic attack at least ten times. I think he's worried that you're gonna want him and Frodo to leave.”

Athos sat up straight, pulling away from the embrace, surprised at the statement. “I don't. Why does he think that?”

“It's nothing you've said,” Porthos reassured him but put his arm down in defeat. “He's scared about being rejected, you know that. Maybe a bit of reassurance this evening wouldn't go amiss. How did it go with the lawyer?”

“Not as well as I had hoped,” Athos admitted. “We should talk about it when Aramis is asleep, I don't want him to overhear.”

“That doesn't sound good.”

“It wasn't bad but it wasn't good either, we just need to talk about it.”

Suddenly the noise of the hoover stopped and a clear 'oh no' emanated from the floor above. Porthos immediately sprung into action and jumped up from his seat before Athos had really realised what was going on. Porthos stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked up.

“Aramis?! You alright?”

A voice came from the top of the stairs. “Mr Mathieu has sent me a text message asking me if I want to do a shift this week!” The voice explained. Even though Athos couldn't see Aramis' facial expressions he could tell that Aramis obviously thought this was the worst thing in the world.

Porthos, still standing at the bottom of the stairs, chuckled. He was clearly relieved that nothing more serious had happened. “Well that's good. Text him back and say yes. You've got Ninon tomorrow as well as d'Artagnan and Constance coming over during the evening. But you could do a shift another day.”

“I'm not ready though,” Aramis whined.

“I have a feeling you'll never feel ready. Just do it, Aramis. Give it a go. Oh and Athos is back.”

Before Athos even had the chance to tell Porthos about the doctors appointment there was suddenly Aramis, a hoover and a dog careering down the stairs.

“Athos!” Aramis cried happily. “You're back! I've been cleaning upstairs but you tell me if I missed anything or you want me to clean something again. I've hoovered the carpets and cleaned the bathroom...” Aramis babbled on about cleaning as he put the hoover back into the cupboard underneath the stairs. “...I've changed the bed-sheets on the sofa-bed as well and I'm going to teach Frodo not to go onto the bed anymore. He has his bed anyway, so there's no need for him to go on the bed and...”

Athos knew that he needed to stop Aramis' frantic chatter which was obviously coming from a place of nervousness. “That's lovely, Aramis, thank you.”

Once the cupboard door had closed Aramis came straight over to the table, pulled back a chair and sat down facing Athos.

“And if there's anything else I should be doing that I'm not doing...”

“Aramis,” Athos interrupted. “That's wonderful.” He reached out, ran his fingers through Aramis' hair which immediately caused Aramis to pretty much purr. He pulled Aramis forward and placed a kiss onto the man's forehead. 

“You're doing just fine,” Athos reassured him. The words seem to calm Aramis down so Athos let go of the hair and formulated Aramis' diary in his head.

“We need to talk about your schedule for tomorrow.”

“I have a schedule?” Aramis squeaked and looked around in panic for the reassuring presence of Porthos. Porthos came over and sat down at the table as well.

“Yup you've got a busy day,” Porthos pointed out with a smile.

“I haven't had a chance to tell Porthos this yet, but the doctors called earlier and your test results are back so we need to go to the doctors in the afternoon.” He purposely didn't look at Porthos, just in case Porthos was glaring in surprise. “So, you have Ninon at 11'o'clock. You're welcome to come into the station with Porthos and I early but then you'd have to hang around for a long-time. So you may want to make your own way to the station. After Ninon you can do what you like and one of us will come back and get you for the doctors at 3:30pm. In the evening I believe Constance and d'Artagnan are coming over?”

Now he did glance at Porthos who was nodding but was indeed looking concerned.

“Yup!” Aramis said instead. “We brought some food today. Porthos said it'll be good for me to spend time with other people and I already like Constance. We're going to cook them dinner, aren't we, Porthos?”

Porthos appeared distracted but, once realising that Aramis was waiting for a response, nodded. “Umm yeah, we'll cook it together. Aramis wants to learn how to cook so...”

“That's a nice idea,” Athos encouraged. If the news at the doctors was bad they could always cancel dinner after all. “Do you understand, Aramis? You have three things happening tomorrow.”

Athos was very aware that he was treating Aramis like a child but he wanted to make sure that Aramis understood what was happening.

“Yup, Ninon, doctors, dinner. Got it.”

Aramis was smiling at least which made Athos feel a lot better about it all. “Good. Have you sent a message back to Mr Mathieu?”

The smile quickly faded. “No, do you want me to?”

Interesting choice of words, Athos noted. “We're not going to force you to do anything. You make the choice about if you want to do it or not. It's your life, remember?”

Aramis appeared a little sheepish then and glanced over nervously at Porthos. Porthos didn't say anything, which Athos was pleased about as it really did need to be Aramis' decision, not them pushing him into something.

“I'll give it a try,” came the conclusion from Aramis which pleased Athos because he did secretly want Aramis to get out of the house and begin to have a life of his own. Somewhere safe with someone like Mr Mathieu who obviously cared about him. Aramis then started tapping away on his phone and so Athos gave his attention back to Porthos once again.

“Treville is happy for us to...pursue other avenues, as long as we're back working for S.I.T as well. We need to get into the office early tomorrow and really give it a hundred and ten percent.” 

Porthos looked like he was deep in thought but then appeared to shake himself out of it. “You always give it more than that, so that means I can go a little bit under, right?” He was then smiling.

“Porthos,” Athos tilted his head to the side in a 'not impressed' manner which Athos knew he did very well. It just made Porthos laugh before coming up with a suggestion.

“Why don't you two go out with Frodo? I'll stay here and phone up estate agents and get dinner started.”

Athos was a little confused as to why Porthos would think that Athos being around the dog was a good idea in any way, shape or form but then he noticed that Porthos was doing a strange nodding gesture towards the distracted Aramis and realisation began to dawn on him; Aramis had been concerned about the panic attack and needed some reassurance. Perhaps quality time together would indeed be a good idea...even if it did involve the dog. 

“Yes, that sounds nice,” he forced out despite the fact he wasn't very keen to be around the animal if he could help it. Aramis' head finally shot-up and he smiled.

“You want to come out with me and Frodo?”

He had been listening after all. Athos nodded which just caused Aramis' face brighten even more, as if he hadn't been expecting it. 

Soon they were out in the hallway putting on shoes and coats. Aramis appeared to almost be bouncing around in happiness whilst Frodo chased his tail with excitement. In fact Athos was quite certain that Aramis would also be chasing his tail if he had one. Instead Aramis reached over to grab his coat only the coat wouldn't budge and it caused Aramis to accidentally fall against Athos and the wall. Athos, now squashed between the two, smiled at him.

“Sorry,” Aramis apologised but then didn't seem to be in a hurry to move. In fact he just stayed with his chest pressed up against Athos' and smiled, which was just cruel as far as Athos was concerned as Aramis was very attractive up close. He also smelt very, very good. Before Athos would really think about what he was doing instinct took over and found himself diving forward and kissing Aramis. Aramis responded with just as much enthusiasm. With their mouths dancing furiously against each other, Athos gripped onto Aramis' clothes and tugged at Aramis' waist, pulling the man even closer. Athos didn't mind being squashed up against the wall anymore, not if it meant that Aramis was kissing him.

When Aramis eventually pulled away, all too soon, leaving Athos' lips tingling, the smile on Aramis' face was so large that laughter lines shone around his eyes.

“You do still like me,” he said, as a statement, like the kiss had confirmed it for him. 

Athos, however, frowned at the comment. “I never stopped liking you.”

“I just needed to check,” Aramis informed him before pushing himself away, leaving Athos leaning back against the wall feeling flustered and a little sexually frustrated.

“You could have just asked,” he sighed to himself.

Once they were outside and Frodo was racing from one side of the street to the other sniffing at every tree and piece of grass they came across, Athos decided that it was a good opportunity for himself and Aramis to talk and the only thing he could think of to talk about was work-related so he went with that.

“Aramis, are you still in contact with any of your old friends?” 

Aramis turned his head to look across at Athos. “What old friends?”

“I mean...” What could he call them whilst being polite? “...work colleagues...” No that probably wasn't the right description, he tried to find another. He decided to just come out with it. “...the other people who worked at the brothel.”

Aramis' eyes went wide and he began to look a little terrified, in fact he stopped walking. “No, no, I promise. I promise I haven't spoken to any of them. I promise, Athos.”

Athos felt bad, he hadn't meant to make Aramis panic. “Aramis, you're not in trouble. I'm asking because I'm curious.” He decided to tell a little white-lie to defuse the situation. “We know you're safe and well but I was wondering about the others.”

“Oh I...yes...I should care, shouldn't I?” The terror on Aramis' face began to disappear and he started walking again slowly, staring down at the pavement. “I should have checked they were okay. But they will be okay, won't they? They'll be working in other places.”

Now they were getting somewhere. “Where?”

With a shrug Aramis glanced across at Athos again, beginning to relax. “I don't know. On the streets or in other brothels.”

“Do you know where these brothels are?”

“Brothels move around. The police keep shutting them down, so they're always moving.”

Athos contemplated the information for a moment. That made sense, obviously, but it was a challenging way to run a business. “So...how do the clients know where to go?”

Thankfully Aramis seemed happy to divulge the trade secrets. “Well if a place shuts then you have someone who hangs around where it used to be. So, when people turn up, they give them the new address.”

“...makes sense,” Athos noted but he still felt like he wasn't really getting anywhere. “So you wouldn't know where your old colleagues have gone?”

“I can easily find out if you want to make sure they're okay?” Aramis was obviously interested in the prospect which made Athos feel a little bad about lying but not enough to stop; this was going to help Aramis after all.

“How will you find out?”

“I know who to ask. Do you want me to ask?”

Athos suddenly wasn't sure if he did. No, he needed to talk to Porthos first. He also needed to decide for himself if it was such a good idea so he decided to pause the conversation for the time-being. “No, no, not yet. Like I said, I was just wondering.”

“That's a funny thing to wonder. Are you...do you want to help someone else? Like the way you're helping me?” Aramis' voice was sounding small and when Athos leaned forward slightly to look at Aramis' face he noticed that Aramis was chewing on his bottom lip in worry.

“What? No! No that's not why I'm interested.” Did Aramis think he was being replaced? 

“Oh...I thought maybe you were still upset about this morning after all.”

This time it was Athos' turn to stop walking. He immediately reached out for Aramis' shoulder to stop him as well. Turning to face the man he wanted to make sure that Aramis was looking right at him when he spoke. “Aramis, I'm not upset in the slightest and I have absolutely no intention of replacing you if that's what you're thinking. Don't ever think that.”

Aramis nodded but didn't look overly convinced so Athos did the only thing he knew to do, he stepped forward and pulled Aramis in for a hug. Right outside, in public and he didn't care who saw them.

When they got back home Athos continued to try and give Aramis a lot of attention because he obviously needed it and Aramis lapped it up, chatting away to them both about everything and anything over dinner until he had all but exhausted himself out. Then Porthos showed them both more of the apartments and houses he had been looking at and explained that he had made arrangements to see them towards the end of the week if they were still available. Athos wasn't really bothered where they ended up living, as long as it was clean and had a decent sized shower, so he left Porthos and Aramis to talk about houses as he headed up to have a wash and get ready for bed. 

An hour later, as Athos was reading in bed, Porthos came in and smiled at him. He closed the bedroom door and began to get undressed.

“So, what happened with the lawyer?”

“She was nice,” Athos explained, placing his book down onto his lap. “...and I have confidence in her ability but there were two things. Firstly she was suggesting if she could get a couple of prostitutes confessing to the fact Marsac supplied them with drugs, that would help a great deal. She was wondering if Aramis could help her track them down.”

“Right, bad idea, but right,” Porthos said as he stripped down to his underwear. “What was the second thing?”

“She was hoping that Aramis would take the stand as a witness to the attack on him.”

There was a pause, which Athos had been expecting. Porthos seemed to be staring down at the dirty washing basket even though he had already placed his clothes into it. 

“No-way.”

Athos had been expecting that also. “She's right though, Porthos. A jury hearing about some random face-less hooker being attacked by a pimp won't get much in the way of sympathy but if we get Aramis up there it could make a huge difference.”

Porthos turned to look at him. “You're kidding, aren't you? Getting Aramis to stand in front of Marsac and talk about how Marsac tried to kill him...Athos, he barely admits that to us. He seems to forget Marsac even did it half the time and he thinks it was his own fault Marsac got mad the rest of the time.” Porthos then came over and got onto the bed, kneeling down he faced Athos and, whilst Athos knew that Porthos had a very valid point, he just felt in his gut that he had to disagree. 

“And we have two months to help him understand the truth. Ninon could help.” 

The comment caused Porthos to frown. “Not bloody Ninon again. No, just no. You promised you'd tell her Aramis won't take the stand.”

“I know but now I realise that she needs Aramis to build up a better case against Marsac. Otherwise Marsac may well be back out in a few short years.”

Porthos shrugged. “We'll leave that to the judge. I'm not letting Aramis get all fucked up in the head again just when we're starting to make progress.”

Athos did understand where Porthos was coming from but he also knew that he had to get Porthos to see the bigger picture. “So it's better to let Marsac back out and do to other people what he did to Aramis?”

“You know I don't want that but we need to protect Aramis. He's not doing it,” Porthos said firmly like that was that. Only Athos wouldn't accepted it. In fact he was beginning to feel incredibly frustrated and, without consciously intending to, shouted...

“Well it's not your choice, it's his!!”

The raise of voice appeared to startle Porthos who leaned back on the bed a little, staring at Athos in shock. Athos immediately felt bad but, before he could apologise, Porthos said something first.

“Yeah you're right, it is his choice. But he does whatever people tell him to do. If you ask him to do it, he'll do it, even if he doesn't want to.”

“I'm not going to force him,” Athos reassured his boyfriend. “I don't want to do that. I just want to give him the option. Perhaps we can talk to Ninon about it first...”

He wasn't even able to finish his sentence because Porthos huffed again and then turned around to clamber off the bed.

“Gonna brush my teeth,” he mumbled and then disappeared from the room. Why was Porthos always so grumpy whenever Ninon came up in conversation? Athos wondered privately. It must be more than just the fact he's worried that Ninon will make him talk about his childhood. Athos was too tired to analyse Porthos' behaviour properly at that moment though and they all had a busy day coming up, so he put his book onto the bedside table and lay down in the bed.

When Porthos came back he turned off the main light before crawling into bed. He had only done it once, not five times, just the once. Athos tried to squeeze his eyes shut and forget about it but it was all he could think about. He fidgeted about in the bed for a few minutes, rolling onto one side and the other. It doesn't matter that the light was only pressed once, it doesn't matter, he continuously told himself. He had been in places all day long where the light switch wouldn't have been pressed five times. It didn't matter...it didn't...it did matter. He began to count to five in his head, over and over obsessively until he accepted the fact that he just wasn't going to sleep so he threw back the duvet and got out of the bed. Going over to the light-switch he turned it on again, then off, then on again and then off. Only that made it four times now because Porthos had pressed it the first time. Despite his tiredness he knew that he had to press is another five times to do a full cycle.

An annoyed growl came from the bed and Porthos rolled onto his back before flinging his arm over his eyes to protect himself from the flashing light.

“For fucks sake,” he grumbled which caused Athos to pause for a moment but he was only on two, he had to keep going to five. He quickly flicked the light switch until it reached five but it didn't make him feel any better. Now he had woken Porthos up and Porthos was upset with him.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, standing in the dark room. He heard Porthos sigh.

“It doesn't matter, love, it's my fault. I left the room when we hadn't sorted things out and I've made you anxious. Stop doing that and come here...please.”

Athos found his way back to the bed and crawled back underneath the covers. He was immediately pulled up against Porthos' chest and held tightly.

“I'm sorry too,” Porthos apologised and kissed him on the forehead. “I don't want us to argue and fall out. We have to be a team, aye? That's really important.”

“I believe that as well.”

“Just let me think about it, okay? We've got a lot going on tomorrow and I'm already worrying about the test results. Let's just get through tomorrow and then sit down and figure out what we're gonna do. Okay?”

Athos nodded against Porthos agreeing that they did both need to put some more thought into the situation.

“Good,” Porthos stretched to get more comfortable but wouldn't let go of Athos. “I love you. Now leave that bloody light alone and sleep.”

Athos did was he was told.


	29. The Wine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got myself a tumblr account! Come say hi - http://stardust-009.tumblr.com/

Athos woke up early with a queasy feeling in his stomach. After rummaging through his dozy thoughts he quickly established who he was and where he was before, eventually, the cause of the upset stomach started to become clear to him. Today was a big day for Aramis; the man had a visit with Ninon, an appointment at the doctors and a dinner invitation to content with. Yet Aramis was also a grown man who had been through much worse, Athos was sure of that. In fact, if anything, Aramis would probably cope with it all better than Athos would. It was the appointment at the doctors which was worrying Athos. He had tried to put the test results out of his mind for the past 24 hours but now he couldn't. What if Aramis had hepatitis or HIV? The chances were surely quite likely considering the amount of sexual partners he must have had but no...just no, Athos wasn't ready to face that possibility. It was probably something easily curable or nothing at all, Athos told himself as he continued to remain lying in the bed with Porthos snoring beside him.

Allowing Porthos, who was not a fan of mornings, to sleep for a little longer Athos carefully tip-toed out to have a shower. By the time he was back in the bedroom all clean and smelling fresh, Porthos was beginning to stir so Athos opened the curtains to let in a little light and then proceeded to put on his suit for work.

“I had a bad dream,” Porthos muttered as he stretched out on the bed. 

“What about?” Athos asked curiously, watching Porthos move about on the mattress as Athos himself did up the buttons of his brand new white shirt.

“We broke up.”

“Oh...” Athos wasn't sure what to say although he wasn't surprised to hear that Porthos had dreamt of such a thing after their minor disagreement the night before.

“It was horrible,” Porthos continued and appeared to be pouting. “You wouldn't even speak to me. I kept on calling you and knocking on your door but you refused to see me. And Aramis had gone off somewhere...I don't even know where he was so I was on my own and I couldn't stop crying.”

Athos could hear from Porthos' unsteady voice that he was still distressed about the dream so Athos went over to the bed and perched down on the side where Porthos slept.

“I'm right here, Porthos. I haven't left you and Aramis is still here as well.” He attempted to smile as he placed his hand on Porthos' broad chest to soothe him. “You're just anxious about everything. I am as well. But it will all be fine, I promise.”

Athos leaned forward and kissed Porthos' warm trembling lips gently. By the time he pulled away Porthos was looking a lot happier.

“I don't know why but...” he began, moving his arm to the pillow in order to rest his head down onto it. “...when you say things like that, I believe every word.”

“Good,” Athos felt confident that he had managed to dispel Porthos' fears so he patted the man on the chest. “Now get up, we need to get to the station early.”

When they both headed downstairs Aramis was still fast-asleep underneath the duvet and on a bed which appeared to be covered in books. Frodo, much to Athos' relief, was in his dog-bed, watching them both carefully as they pottered around the kitchen just in case any of them reached for his dog-food. As Aramis didn't stir the whole time they made coffee, Athos left Aramis a note to remind him what time he was meant to be at the station to see Ninon if he wanted to go and what time the doctors was. Whilst he was secretly desperate for Aramis to get help from Ninon, the conversation with Porthos the night before had reminded him that it really was Aramis' choice if he wanted to see her or not. So they left Aramis sleeping whilst they headed into the busy station.

The first thing Athos did once he got to the office was try and get hold of Detective Inspector Roussel; who had obviously had received a promotion since the Father Vincent case. He was off for the day so Athos left a message with someone else in the office and asked if she could get Roussel to ring him back. He also queried who Leroux was and, as it turned out, Leroux wasn't a he but a she and she had been Roussel's partner until she left the force a few years ago. Athos did debate asking for her contact details anyway but then decided to leave it until he had spoken to Roussel.

“Porthos!” Athos glanced up at the happy cry of Constance as she came into the office and noticed Porthos sitting there. Porthos immediately stood up and greeted her with a smile and a hug.

“So good to see you again,” Constance beamed. “Come and get coffee with me, we need to catch-up.”

Porthos disappeared with Constance and Athos decided not to say anything; he knew those two were close and Athos was pleased that Porthos had someone to talk to. It wasn't long until d'Artagnan also appeared and, whilst Athos wasn't greeted with a hug, he was soon experiencing the usual level of d'Artagnan enthusiasm.

“There was a murder last night. An elderly lady found dead in her home. I haven't seen Clara or Leonard yet this morning to see what happened. They were probably up all night though, the call came in really late...”

Athos half listened and half read his emails. The combination proved to be rather productive. Eventually Porthos returned and Treville appeared, immediately summoning them both to his office.

“It's good to have you back,” was the first thing he said as he smiled and walked around his desk to sit down. “We've had a couple of unexplained deaths this week so we're getting stretched again and I need you two to help out.” Athos' interest immediately perked up. Unexplained deaths...possible murders. Those were always the most interesting cases. “I'm getting another pile of unsolved cases stacking up again which I'd rather not have,” Treville continued. “I want them solved. I need you two on them.”

Athos' excitement immediately disappeared. No murders then.

“Sure,” Porthos nodded, seemingly pleased to be helping out. “Unsolved cases is what we do best.”

Treville nodded his pleasure at Porthos' attitude. “I've already told Athos this but, if you both wish to investigate other matters on the side, that's fine. But you make your current work-load your first priority.”

Porthos nodded back his understanding and then they were dismissed with a list of case numbers.

Reluctantly Athos internally accepted that they had to do what Treville said and the challenge of solving cases which other detective's hadn't been-able to, did have some intellectual appeal. 

“Let's go through the cases and prioritise them,” Athos suggested and they both sat at their desks for a couple of hours to talk them through. There were a lot of burglaries, which was normal, those cases were rarely solved. There was an armed robbery which Athos was considering making a priority but then he read about a serious physical assault and robbery of a young man on his way home from work and a sexual assault of a young woman on the way back from a night out. Those two cases stood-out for Athos because he wanted to catch the perpetrators and get the victims justice. However, as the clock got closer to 11'o'clock, Athos became a little distracted. Porthos obviously noticed the constant glances at the clock on the wall because he chuckled.

“Yeah I wanna see if he's here as well.”

“Do you think we should?” Athos asked, not really sure if they should interfere but desperate to know if Aramis had come into the station to see Ninon. 

“I don't know,” Porthos admitted with a shrug. “Maybe...maybe we can go down afterwards and say hi? That way we're not...well we won't look like we're checking up on him, you know?”

Athos nodded, agreeing if not completely satisfied with the suggestion. However, as the hour continued, Athos found himself becoming increasingly frustrated. He was reading the case report on the young man who had been attacked on his way home from work and, as far as he could tell, the two detective's on the case had done a fine job of investigating and Athos couldn't figure out what they had missed which might help the case. Therefore he was almost grateful when it grew closer to midday because it meant he could distract himself by going to Ninon's office to see if Aramis was there.

“Come on,” he said to Porthos when it was time. Porthos jumped up and they both headed down a couple of floors to where Ninon had her office. When they got there the door was still closed so they hung around in the hallway trying to look inconspicuous until the door opened and Aramis came out. Aramis appeared to be surprised to see him at first but then he grinned. Ninon, who was behind him, looked a little less shocked at their presence.

“Oh look, well they're helpfully here. Gentlemen, would Thursday or Friday work better for you both this week?”

“Thursday,” Athos informed her. “I have a funeral on Friday. Morning would be the most convenient if you can do it?”

“Hold on.”

Ninon disappeared back into her office as Aramis came over still smiling.

“Everything alright?” Porthos asked him.

Aramis nodded before approaching Porthos like he was hoping for a hug but Porthos stood up straight which must have reminded Aramis where they were because his shoulders slowly slumped and he suddenly didn't look as happy. Ninon soon reappeared looking down at a small white paper diary.

“I could fit you in first thing. Nine? Or is that too early?”

“Nine is fine,” Athos informed her without even asking the other two because he was the only one that seemed to have any idea about their schedules anyway. “We'll see you on Thursday.”

Ninon smiled at him and Athos offered a faint smile in return, feeling a little funny. She promptly left them though, going back into her office and closing the door quietly and Athos silently told himself, and not for the first time, that he really needed to get over the silly crush he had on her. 

“Can we go now?” Aramis asked which caused Athos to turn his attention back to him.

“You'll have to head back by yourself. Porthos and I have work to do. One of us will pick you up later for the doctors, I wrote it all down for you.”

Aramis, however, didn't do as he was commanded and just stood there looking forlorn. 

“You're not coming back with me?” he asked, eyes darting between the pair of them until they eventually settled on Porthos which Athos suspected meant that he considered Porthos to be the soft touch.

“No, mate, we have to stay here and work,” Porthos explained. “We're busy, got lots of crimes we need to solve.”

Porthos reached out and gave Aramis a gentle squeeze on the arm. It didn't, however, appear to provide the comfort Aramis needed because he continued to look utterly dejected. They all stood in silence until Porthos broke. 

“Come here,” he said, took Aramis' arm then and guided him down the corridor. Athos followed, wondering what on earth Porthos was doing. Porthos peered around at all of the doors until he purposely headed for one right down the end. When he opened up the door he had been aiming for he then gently shoved Aramis inside and waited for Athos to join them. They had somehow found themselves in a supplies cupboard filled with riot gear but it was, at least, just about large enough to fit all three of them and completely private.

“What's the matter?” Porthos asked Aramis tenderly, bending down a little to get closer to his eye-level. “You alright?”

Aramis didn't say anything, he just immediately flung himself against Porthos who promptly wrapped him up in his arms. And there Aramis stayed, clinging onto Porthos, his cheek pressed firmly against Porthos' shoulder.

“What happened?” Athos asked wanting to get to the bottom of Aramis' mood. He had seemed quite cheerful when he had walked out of Ninon's office and Athos wasn't entirely sure what had caused the dramatic change.

“I just want you to come back with me,” Aramis mumbled, the whites of his eyes glinting in the marginal darkness of the enclosed space. Aramis then lifted his head back up to look directly at Porthos. “We can go back together.”

He closed his eyes then and aimed his lips towards Porthos'. Porthos inhaled at the surprise of the kiss at first, before slowing moving his lips against Aramis' and kissing him back. Aramis moaned with delight as Porthos brought his hand up to cup Aramis' chin as the embrace continued but Athos was starting to become wise to Aramis' behaviour and he reached out, grabbed the man's arm and gently tugged him away from Porthos. Aramis turned to immediately move towards Athos, obviously assuming that Athos wanted to be kissed as well but Athos took a very determined step back.

“Aramis, stop this,” he said firmly, letting go of Aramis' arm “Talk to us, tell us what you need.”

“I did tell you,” Aramis responded quietly. “I want you to come home with me.”

“Why?” Athos asked.

“Because...because I don't want to be on my own.”

“Did things not go well with Ninon?”

Aramis immediately gasped. “No, they did! I like Ninon, I like her a lot.”

“Then why are you being needy?”

Aramis flinched at the word and Athos immediately regretted saying it. He was being unkind, of course Aramis would be feeling vulnerable after having potentially opened up to a counsellor. Of course he was going to want a bit of company and comfort and of course he was going to use his body to get it, because that's what Aramis did. 

“Sorry...I didn't mean that.” 

“It's okay,” Aramis responded a little too quickly.

“No, it's not okay. You're not needy. I'm sorry.”

“I am. Marsac used to say I was needy.”

Now it was Athos' turn to flinch. Great, now he was talking like Marsac. Everything was very quickly going very wrong in Athos' mind but, thankfully, Porthos was there to get him out of the hole.

“Hey,” Porthos said softly and reached out to rub Aramis' back. “It's not easy talking to people about stuff, is it? I get that. Is that why you want us to come home with you? Because you're feeling a bit funny?”

Aramis nodded. 

“The problem is, mate...” Porthos continued. “...we're needed here for a bit. There are a couple of assault cases which still haven't been solved so Athos and I are gonna try to help.”

Aramis' eyes seemed to light up. “I could help too?”

Athos' first thought was that Aramis helping was a great idea. Aramis would be in the station where they could keep an eye on him, they had to take him to the doctors in a couple of hours anyway. But there was one small problem; Treville. The Captain was already uncomfortable with their relationship with Aramis and Athos didn't want to make that worse. Still, surely there were other places in the station Aramis could stay if he wanted to stick around where Treville wouldn't see him?

“You could go to the canteen for a couple of hours?” he suggested, trying to be helpful. “Did you bring a book with you?”

Aramis shook his head and generally didn't look very impressed with that idea. 

“I'll go home,” he responded and dropped his head to look at the floor like a kicked puppy.

“Frodo will be there, remember?” Porthos attempted to insert some level of cheeriness. “He'll be happy to see you.”

“Yeah,” Aramis nodded but didn't appear to be sold on the idea.

Then, as if Porthos couldn't help himself which Athos knew full well he couldn't, the man wrapped his arms around Aramis and pulled him in for a hug. Athos watched them both embrace and allowed it to happen because he suspected that they both needed it. Poor Aramis. Athos was curious to know what he had talked about with Ninon but knew that it wasn't his place to ask. He was just incredibly grateful that Aramis had someone to talk to, someone who was far better at conversation than himself and Porthos were.

Porthos sighed loudly, appeared to squeeze Aramis harder for a second, kissed him on top of his head and then finally let go.

“It's only a couple of hours until one of us will come back and get you for the doctors anyway. Then we can cook dinner for our guests, yeah?”

Aramis nodded but this time it was with a bit of enthusiasm. “I'm looking forward to that,” he admitted. “It'll be good to have Constance round and finally meet d'Artagnan properly.”

“Yeah it will be good,” Porthos was smiling now as well. “So, just go home, hang out with Frodo for a bit, then we'll see you soon, okay?”

They all left the store-room and walked Aramis out of the police station where he waved goodbye to them in a semi-cheerful manner. Athos was still concerned about Porthos though.

“Are you okay?” he asked as they began to walk back towards the elevators together.

“Yeah, I just...” Porthos paused and brought his hand up to his chest, right over his heart as if it was hurting a little. “...I really care about him, you know?”

“I know. I do as well,” Athos admitted. 

When they reached the elevators Athos reached out to press the button to summon the lift and then noticed that Porthos was staring at him.

“Do you mind if I take him to the doctors?” Porthos asked. “Or at least come with you? I don't think I'll be-able to stand sitting here whilst Aramis finds out his test results.”

Athos was a little taken back as he had automatically assumed that he would be going with Aramis like he had before but, actually, it really didn't matter who went with Aramis and Porthos would probably be better at providing emotional support. 

“You can take him if you like,” he offered. “Then take him home and begin cooking dinner. I'll come back later.”

“You sure?” Porthos asked as they stepped into the lift which was thankfully empty. “We could both go?”

“Doesn't seem necessary,” Athos pointed out. “And one of us should really stay here and get some work done.”

They both grabbed some baguettes from the canteen and then sat at their desks, reading through the cases files of the two assaults and discussing them together. By the time they had created a small list of things to do, it was time for Porthos to leave.

“Call me,” he told Porthos. “Good or bad, let me know.”

Porthos nodded his promise and then left, leaving Athos sitting alone at his desk suddenly feeling a slightly sick to his stomach once again. What if Aramis did have something bad? How would he cope with it? How would they all cope with it? Athos sighed and told himself not to worry about something which might not even happen. Perhaps it was something minor, something which could be cured easily. Perhaps it was nothing at all and the doctor just wanted to check on Aramis' progress with the epilepsy medication. It proved to be very difficult not to worry and Athos spent the next hour either in the bathroom washing his hands or staring at his phone waiting for it to ring. When it did ring it made him jump and he immediately reached out to grab it.

“Gonorrhea,” was the first thing Porthos said. “Should be easily cured with antibiotics.”

Athos breathed a sigh of relief. “And that's all?” 

“Yup. All clear apart from that, thank god.”

“I'm surprised he didn't have symptoms.”

“You think he'd tell us if he was having them?” Porthos pointed out. “Anyway the doc said that sometimes people don't have any symptoms at all. He also said Aramis was doing good apart from that. He was pleased about Aramis not having any fits and he has even put on a bit of weight it seems. Aramis has been quiet though so I'm gonna take him straight home and start working on dinner.”

“Alright. I'll head over when Constance and d'Artagnan do, unless you need my help?”

“Nah you're good, Aramis and I have got it. He's just in the bathroom so I'm waiting for him.”

“Well...this is good news at least. I mean I'm sure gonorrhea isn't nice but it could have been much worse.”

“Yeah I know. I was literally shaking as we waited. I was so scared it would be something really bad. I think he's coming out...see you later. Love you.”

Before Athos had the chance to say anything back Porthos had hung up and Athos allowed himself to let the relief wash over him as he sat back in his chair. 

Athos' promise to Constance that he'd be following right behind them turned out to be a little bit of a lie because he got distracted by his thoughts and ended up leaving the office at least an hour after the others. By the time he got home he guiltily discovered that they had all been waiting for him.

“There he is, finally! We thought you had suffered a head injury and forgotten where you live. We were just about to send out a search party,” Constance said sarcastically. She then carried her glass of wine over the dining-table. Athos briefly glanced around because something was different; the house looked nice. He quickly realised that the sofa-bed had been put away and it was now a chair once again and generally everything had been tidied up. D'Artagnan was standing there beaming at him but he needed to take his shoes off so he did that first and rearranged everyone else's whilst he was at it.

“Hi, Athos,” d'Artagnan said as Athos reappeared.

“D'Artagnan,” Athos greeted the lad with a nod as he made his way over to the table where Constance was waiting. Aramis and Porthos were busy serving up the food which Athos guilty suspected had been kept warm for a while due to his lateness.

“Athos, love, we really need to work on what five minutes means because your five minutes and everyone else's five minutes don't seem to be the same thing,” Porthos said with some amusement before patting Aramis on the shoulder. “Take that to the table and sit down, I'll bring the rest over.”

Aramis carried a large bowl of what looked like piperade to the table just as d'Artagnan sat down next to Athos.

“Wow that smells good,” d'Artagnan complimented which made Aramis smile with pride.

“Porthos was showing me how to make it. It's vegetarian,” Aramis announced and then sat down between Constance and Athos. 

“Fresh bread coming up as well,” Porthos said and brought it over with another bottle of red wine considering they had already appeared to had drained most of the first. “Now, Constance, eat some bread before that goes to your head,” Porthos teased, nodding at the wine glass she still had in her hand.

“I can handle my drink!” she protested even though they all knew she couldn't. Still, Constance was always a happy, giggly drunk which Athos didn't mind so much. Athos himself instinctively reached out to grab the wine bottle to pour himself a glass but then he paused his hand and quickly pulled it back like he had been burnt. Why had he just done that? Habit he assumed. He held back the offending hand with the other but it was too late as Porthos had obviously noticed.

“Hold on, I've got some sparkly fruit drinks as well.”

Porthos left the table only to come back and pass a bottle of elderflower over to Athos who thanked him sheepishly then they all tucked into their meal. Conversation flowed easily. Constance asked Aramis about Frodo, d'Artagnan told them all about the farm where he grew up and genuinely everything was very pleasant although, as the meal went on, Athos couldn't help but notice that they were all getting more animated the more they all drank, including Aramis. Porthos, who was a man that could actually handle his drink, didn't seem to have noticed Aramis' increasingly merry state and, once they had all digested their main course a little, he got up to bring over the cherry clafoutis he had made for dessert.

“Oh my god...this is so good,” Constance moaned with delight with each mouthful and Aramis stared at her, seemingly shocked at the noises she was making.

“Oh god I love cherries,” she licked her lips and this time Aramis chuckled. D'Artagnan laughed as well and glanced over to Athos who was sitting there with a stoic face, wondering if he was going to end up being the sober one putting them all to bed. Thankfully Constance then began to behave and the conversation went from music gigs to local food places they should visit. Athos sat there and just listened which was fine with him, he enjoyed being around them even though he didn't say very much.

“Let me clean up,” he offered once all of the eating was done but the drinking appeared to be continuing. Porthos protested for a moment but Athos insisted and Aramis offered to help. So Porthos, Constance and d'Artagnan moved over to the living-room area which now had enough seats and Athos stayed in the kitchen to shove everything into the dishwasher with Aramis passing him the dirty plates.

“Athos, can I ask you something?” Aramis whispered at him.

“Certainly,” Athos said, bending over to place the cutlery into the holder. 

“Are we all going to have sex in a minute?” was the question Aramis blurted out. It made Athos stand up so quickly that he hurt his back. With a groan he placed his hand on the bottom of his now sore spine before blinking at Aramis in shock.

“Are you asking me if we're going to have...an orgy?” he said, just to clarify. Aramis nodded and Athos froze, astounded and appalled, although he tried not to show either emotion as he looked at Aramis seriously. “No, Aramis, Constance and d'Artagnan are our friends. We don't have sex with them.”

“What if they want sex though?”

“Have they...implied that they do?” Athos asked, wondering what sort of vibes Aramis was picking up that he was clearly missing. 

Thankfully Aramis shook his head. “No, not really.”

“Then we don't have sex with them,” Athos repeated, hoping that the others couldn't hear the conversation despite the open-plan room. “I'm fairly certain d'Artagnan is straight so he wouldn't even be interested and I know Constance certainly doesn't see us in that way. So no...no orgy...no sex.”

“Oh good,” Aramis responded with some relief right before he gasped as if he had shocked himself. “I mean...not that I wouldn't have done it if they had wanted to because I know they're your friends so we should make them happy. But the doctor said I was sick so...I don't want to make other people sick although Marsac always told me not to worry about that, but I do worry about that...”

Athos reached out to hold onto Aramis' shoulder to stop his babbling, wondering exactly how much of everything Aramis was even understanding. “Aramis, it's okay, you're not going to make anyone sick. You have antibiotics, it'll be cleared up in no time.”

“How long?” 

“If you take every tablet when you're meant to and take all of them, then you'll be better. I can remind you to take them, if you like? Because I know you're not so wonderful about that sort of thing.”

Aramis nodded. “Yes please. I want to get better quickly. But don't worry, because you can still fuck me I think. I just think I can't do that to you until I'm better.”

Athos sighed before moving his hand up to wrap his fingers around the back of Aramis' neck. Here we go again, Athos thought sadly in his head. Why can't you still understand that you mean more to us than that?

“I'm not worried,” Athos promised and tugged Aramis closer. Aramis came willingly, stumbling forward he fell against Athos and Athos held him tightly. Aramis smelt of tomatoes and wine and Athos enjoyed the closeness for a moment, allowing himself to kiss Aramis on the side of the head before whispering into his ear. “You're special, Aramis, please remember that.”

“I love you,” came the whisper back from Aramis which stunned Athos for a moment before he put it down to the wine.


	30. The Hangover Cure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Urgh, sorry, life has a habit of getting in the way of writing fanfic! How dare it. Have some sexy time to make up for it.
> 
> Tumblr - http://stardust-009.tumblr.com/]

As the evening went on they shared stories of their time as uniformed police officers. Athos had noticed that the stories were getting increasingly ruder as the evening went on so he wasn't sharing himself but he couldn't help but be somewhat amused at what the others were coming up with. Aramis, who was sitting between Porthos and Constance on the sofa, was finding everything hilarious and it was bringing Athos a lot of pleasure witnessing Aramis relax in the friendly environment.

Porthos was sharing a story about a stag party which had reached a painful end. “...the poor kid was sitting in the hospital looking as white as a sheet as the nurses removed his rabbit costume and examined his bites. Thankfully the dog hadn't managed to rip anything off his manhood but it had been close. Goodness knows what his finance must have thought on their wedding night with him all covered in stitches!”

Aramis, however, abruptly stopped laughing. Athos watching him gnaw at his bottom lip with an expression of great concern.

“Aramis?” he asked gently, the others hadn't noticed that Aramis had stopped laughing until Athos drew attention to it.

Aramis glanced over at Athos, his face now full of worry. “What happened to the dog?” came the tentative question.

“Oh, nothing!” Porthos insisted, placing his hand down on Aramis' leg to get his attention. “Nah, nothing happened to the dog, mate. I mean, if you're gonna run across a locked-up area with guard dogs wearing a rabbit costume, you get what's coming to you. Nothing happened to the dog, I promise.”

Whilst Athos wasn't entirely certain that Porthos was being honest, Aramis appeared to believe him and visibly relaxed, the smile coming back to his face. Athos decided then that they had all had enough fun for the evening. 

“It's almost midnight,” he pointed out. “Shall I drive you both home?” The offer was directed at Constance and d'Artagnan because there was no-way he was going to let either of them drive. Whilst d'Artagnan hadn't consumed quite as much alcohol as Constance had, the lad clearly wasn't fully sober either.

“No, don't be silly,” Constance told Athos, waving her arm about dismissively. “We'll share a taxi. D'Artagnan can come back tomorrow and get his car.”

She looked over at d'Artagnan who suddenly sat up when he noticed he was being stared at. “Oh! Yeah, yeah...we should do whatever Athos suggests though.”

Constance immediately frowned. “You're my partner, you do whatever I say.”

D'Artagnan grinned at her. “I'm not your partner right now, we're not on duty.”

“You're always my partner in every situation,” she said very seriously, then they both had a mini staring competition before they both cracked up with laughter and Athos decided it was time to get them out of the house so he went to fetch his phone and called for a taxi.

“Off you go then,” he suggested ten minutes later once there was a car-horn beeping outside. He did love them both but there was only so much of them he could handle whilst they were merry and he was tired and very sober.

After everyone had hugged everyone else, he managed to guide them into the hallway where they found their jackets. 

“Thank you for having us round, Athos. I really enjoyed myself,” d'Artagnan said hurriedly as he was dragged outside by Constance.

“Goodbye, handsome men!” Constance yelled from the path as she departed. “I love you all! Have some fun now.”

With that Athos closed the door and hoped that they were both at least sensible enough to get themselves back to their respective houses safely. When he turned around he was startled to find Aramis standing there in the hallway with him.

“They're nice, aren't they? They're nice people.”

Athos, unsure as to why Aramis was making such a statement, nodded his agreement anyway. “Yes they are. They're both very nice people and very good at their jobs.”

Aramis just stood there and stared at the door for a moment although he also appeared to be swaying a little from side-to-side.

“Let's get you to bed,” Athos suggested, not wanting Aramis to fall over.

“I need your help. I need to make-up the sofa-bed again but I'm feeling kinda funny.”

Athos smiled fondly. “Well you were enjoying the wine.”

“I was!” Aramis admitted, seemingly shocked by the fact. “But now I feel bad because you can't drink wine and it must have made you sad watching us all drink it around you. That was very selfish of us...and silly...and rude.”

Athos quickly shook his head and stepped closer to Aramis. “No, not at all. I don't begrudge anyone else for drinking just because I have a problem with it. It was rather amusing at times watching you all.”

That wasn't entirely true but the last thing he wanted was to make Aramis feel guilty or bad for finally relaxing and enjoying himself. Aramis didn't look entirely convinced though so Athos stepped past him and back into the living-room to help remake the sofa bed only he quickly encountered a problem; Porthos had sunk down onto the sofa and was now spread out across the whole thing, fast asleep and snoring.

“Oh dear,” came a voice from behind and Athos sighed his agreement.

“Get your duvet,” he suggested. “I don't have the energy to move him.”

Athos stood there watching his adorable, drunk, boyfriend snoring away as Aramis stumbled around and found his duvet which had been shoved beside the sofa. Athos then helped Aramis cover Porthos carefully although, once they had finished, Athos realised that now had another problem.

“You'll have to share my bed,” Athos proposed and, before Aramis had the chance to think about it, Athos began to walk back into the hallway and turned the light on and off five times leaving Porthos in the darkness.

“Your bed?” Aramis asked, following Athos obediently. “Can I really?” He at least sounded excited about the prospect.

“Yes.” Athos ascended the stairs. “But you will have to wash your hands, face and brush your teeth first and, Aramis...” he paused and turned around on the stairs to look down at Aramis. He knew that he had to make one thing very clear. “No sex.”

“No sex,” Aramis stared up from the bottom of the staircase. “Because I'm sick.”

“No, not because you're sick.” Athos resisted the urge to rub his tired face. “Well perhaps partly that. Because you're drunk and Porthos isn't with us.”

“Wow, now I have three things to remember. Not when I'm sick or drunk or without Porthos.”

Athos began to feel a little bad for confusing the poor intoxicated man. “Yes, sorry, it's complicated, isn't it?”

“A little,” Aramis sighed despondently but followed Athos up the stairs, slipping at one stage. Unfortunately Athos reacted too slowly to catch him but, thankfully, Aramis just appeared to bang his shin and was soon back up on his feet and marching up the steps again.

“Athos?” Aramis said as he followed Athos into the bathroom. Athos began his night-time rituals which he usually did alone but at least, with Aramis there, he could make sure that Aramis brushed his teeth.

“Yes?” Athos responded, not particularly wanting to have a conversation with Aramis so late at night but he also didn't want to discourage Aramis from asking questions. He filled the sink with warm water and began to wash his face with perfume-free soap.

“When you said that d'Artagnan is straight, what did you mean?”

Athos washed the soap off with the water and then patted his face dry with a white towel. “It means he isn't sexually attracted to men, just to women.”

Aramis appeared to think about this. Athos filled the sink up with warm water again and then stood behind Aramis, gently pushing him towards it. Aramis was compliant and washed his face, somehow managing to get most of his hair wet in the process. 

He stood up straight again to announce, “I'm not sure that's right though.”

“No?” Athos raised an eyebrow at Aramis in the mirror.

“No, because a lot of the men that used to come to visit me said that they were straight. I mean they used to go on about it; how they had a girlfriend or a wife and they weren't gay. They said that and I always said, okay, I know, that's fine...then they fucked me. So people aren't always what they say they are.”

“That's true although those men were in _denial_ ,” Athos explained. “Personally I don't believe that anyone is really one hundred per cent one thing or another though. We're all just attracted to who we're attracted to but some people are more attracted to one gender than another.”

“So d'Artagnan might be in love with you?”

The suggestion made Athos chuckle. “He's not. He's...” Athos paused to work out how he could explain it in a way that Aramis would understand. “He was very close to his father until his father died a few years ago. I think I'm a substitute. A male role-model if you like. It's not sexual, he doesn't want to have sex with me.”

“Are you sure?” Aramis asked, drying his hands with a towel, water dripping off the curls in his hair.

“Fairly certain,” Athos concluded and then stepped forward to brush his teeth. “Why are you asking this?”

“Because Ninon and I were talking about sex today. I'm trying to figure out how I can know when people do and don't want to have sex with me. Because I thought that Constance and d'Artagnan did but you said that they didn't, so I got that wrong. And I think that you do want sex with me but then you don't have sex with me. I really don't understand how I'm meant to know. Ninon said that it was okay to ask.”

Athos was brushing his teeth but he was watching Aramis in the mirror. Aramis was clearly very puzzled as he tried to figure it all out in his head but Athos wasn't entirely sure that it should be a conversation that they had at midnight with Aramis tipsy like he was. He finished brushing his teeth and spat out the mouth wash before finally responding, turning to look at the other man. 

“Aramis, it's really good that you're thinking about these things and asking these sorts of questions and my answer to you is that it doesn't matter if people do or don't want to have sex with you. The important thing is if you want to have sex with _them_. But, let's not having this conversation now when we're both tired and need to get to bed. Why don't we talk about it tomorrow? Or on Thursday when we all go and see Ninon?”

Aramis seemed satisfied and nodded before stepping forward to brush his own teeth. Athos watched to make sure that Aramis did it properly and, only once he had, accepted him into the bedroom where another problem presented itself. 

“Do you want to borrow some nightclothes?” Athos asked.

“I just sleep naked or in my underwear normally. Sometimes I wear a t-shirt if it's cold.”

“You can borrow a T-shirt,” Athos quickly responded, deciding that Aramis wearing clothing was a very good idea if they were going to share a bed. As Athos went over to this chest of drawers to where his clean t-shirts were kept he could see Aramis get undressed out of the corner of his eye and tried his absolute best not to ogle. Once he had found a plain baggy white t-shirt which would do nicely, he held it out to Aramis, who was now standing in nothing but his black boxers looking incredibly inviting and delicious but he was also drunk, Athos reminded himself, and Porthos wasn't there so they needed to behave.

“Oh thank you, Athos,” Aramis said, in a way that sounded like he actually thought the t-shirt was the greatest present of all time. “This is my favourite thing in the world,” he then appeared to admit as he slipped the t-shirt on over his head and went over to the bed to pull the duvet back.

Athos stood there puzzled. “What, borrowing a t-shirt?”

“No, sharing a bed with someone,” Aramis explained as he crawled onto the bed and then threw himself down onto the mattress with a huge grin. Athos found the admission rather endearing as he considered the fact that Aramis probably hadn't had the opportunity to actually sleep in a bed with many people in his life. Apart from Marsac, but Athos had already heard how temperamental Marsac seemed to be when it came to Aramis' company.

“I'm glad this is making you happy,” he said honestly, watching as Aramis pulled on a pillow and almost curled up around it, the grin still across his entire face. Athos, not wanting to disappoint Aramis in any way, quickly got undressed himself until he was also down to his underwear and a t-shirt. Then he pressed the light-switch five times before walking over in the dark and sitting on the bed to get in beside Aramis. Before Athos even had the chance to sort out the duvet Aramis flung himself at Athos. Within a couple of seconds Athos had an arm across his chest, a leg covering his own and Aramis' cheek nuzzling his chest.

“Hold on.” Athos unfortunately had to force Aramis to move slightly so he could reach for the duvet and at least tug it up to cover their waists. “There we go,” he said as he lay back down and Aramis resumed his position. Athos attempted to release the arm which Aramis was lying on in order to bend his elbow and slowly stroke Aramis' hair. The action caused Aramis to sigh with delight and squeeze Athos across the chest even tighter. Aramis really did appear to enjoy sharing a bed with someone, so desperate for love and affection. 

After kissing the top of Aramis' head, Athos closed his eyes. “Goodnight, Aramis,” he whispered into the dark room.

At some point during the night Athos was woken up by the door opening wider, footsteps coming towards the bed and then the mattress moving. Aramis was then pushing against him so Athos shuffled across the bed to accommodate. Either it was a very friendly burglar or Porthos had woken up. The latter was proven to be true when, a few minutes later, Porthos' snoring joined in with the chorus of Aramis' soft breathing. Athos smiled to himself. Even though he was now almost teetering on the edge of the mattress, everything felt perfect.

He was woken up a second time by hushed voices and then gentle moans. He sleepily turned his head and blinked open his eyes, letting them adjust to the dim light of morning where he saw the back of Aramis' head. Aramis appeared to be leaning over Porthos. Judging by the quiet noises and the way that Aramis' head was moving, Athos took a guess that they were kissing even though his view was obstructed by Aramis himself. It woke Athos up properly at least. He was already hard beneath his underwear thanks to a rather interesting dream, but now that dream was actually close to becoming a reality which did nothing to calm his body down.

Athos watched intently as Aramis clambered up onto Porthos, lying on top of him. Now Athos could see them kissing although his gaze soon focused on Porthos' large, strong hands being so gentle as he tugged on the t-shirt Aramis was wearing and pulled it up to expose part of Aramis' back. Porthos' fingers then began to explore the smooth skin which they found there. Aramis really was beautiful. His wild curls, despite his hair-cut, were still falling in front of his face as his fingers tugged at Porthos' hair and they continued their kissing.

It wasn't long until Porthos' hands were on Aramis' arse, squeezing him through the fabric of his underwear. This just caused Aramis to groan into Porthos' mouth and begin grinding his hips. Athos imagined that Aramis must be hard by now and Porthos must have been-able to feel it against his hip. His theory was confirmed when Porthos pulled away from the kiss for a moment to roll his head back on the pillow and groan carnally. The noise seems to spur Aramis on and he continued to thrust his hips back and forth, his own excited panting noises filling the room as he lifted himself up momentarily to tug the borrowed t-shirt off over his head and throw it across the room somewhere.

Athos resisted the urge to go and fetch the T-shirt to fold it up, because the distraction of watching Porthos' hands caress Aramis' arse-cheeks even more furiously was arousing enough to encourage Athos to reach down and rub at the lump in his underwear. He didn't even realise that Porthos had noticed he was awake until he heard his name being whispered.

“Athos, come closer,” Porthos said and Athos quickly looked away from Aramis' body as if he was embarrassed at having been caught looking but Porthos didn't appear to be mad at all, he was smiling. “Come over here, love.”

Athos kept his hand on his underwear but shuffled over to get closer. Aramis also turned to look at him, biting onto his bottom lip as if he was excited about the fact Athos was coming to join them. Athos couldn't help himself, he wanted to kiss that handsome face so he reached out with his spare hand, cupped the back of Aramis' head to pull Aramis across so their lips could touch. Aramis gasped but then accepted the kiss, pressing his mouth back fiercely Athos almost had to spar with him as their teeth knocked together then a tongue was forcefully penetrating his mouth. Athos took the tongue and sucked on it, his fingers now slipping inside his own underwear so he could touch himself properly.

Athos was only able to breathe again once Aramis abruptly pulled his lips away.

“Porthos, I'm sick,” Aramis whispered.

“It's okay,” Porthos said from down below. “This is okay. Just tell me to stop if it hurts.”

Whatever it was Porthos was doing made Aramis suddenly moan very loudly. Athos' curiosity forced him to look and he discovered that Porthos had pushed Aramis' underwear down as well as his own and he was rhythmically pumping both of their erections. 

“Feels good,” Aramis groaned and closed his eyes tightly shut as he sat on Porthos' lap. He then fell forward slightly to press his hands against Porthos' bare chest which made Athos smile. It was so nice to see Aramis allow himself to be pleasured, instead of being the one pleasing other people. He really did look splendid when he was under Porthos' spell.

“Porthos,” Aramis whispered which just spurred Porthos on to fist him even more furiously. 

“Where's my kiss?” Porthos then asked and Athos realised that Porthos was speaking to him. So Athos lay down onto his side, smiled at Porthos and then leaned over to kiss him. The kiss was lazier and more familiar than the one with Aramis. Athos allowed himself to get a little lost against the lips of his boyfriend, time having no meaning, but he did pull away when his lips began to swell.

“I love you,” Porthos said, staring up into Athos' eyes. “Even though you both abandoned me downstairs...” He raised an eyebrow and Athos suddenly felt the urge to justify his actions only he didn't get the chance because Porthos began muttering something about Jesus and then looked past Athos up at Aramis. Athos turned his head as well, Aramis had pushed himself up onto his knees and he was rocking his hips furiously back and forth, pumping his leaking cock desperately in and out of Porthos' fist.

“Porthos, can I...I need to...”

“God, love, don't ever ask,” Porthos said both firmly but lovingly at the man straddling his lap. “Just do it.”

Aramis scrunched up his face, clearly fighting the urge to orgasm.

“Just look at him,” Porthos whispered, seemingly talking to Athos. “Look at how gorgeous he is. Look at how lucky we are.”

Athos nodded his agreement because watching Aramis pleasure himself in Porthos' hand was one of the erotic things he had ever witnessed but he didn't get the chance to enjoy it for much longer as Aramis soon let go, exploding all over Porthos' bare stomach and gasping loudly. Watching Aramis orgasm caused Athos to stroke himself even more furiously before his own muscles tightened and then he came as well, coating the inside of his underwear as his body released the tension. It wasn't long then before Athos heard the familiar grunt and then sigh of Porthos, to indicate that he has also finished. Then they all collapsed, Aramis onto Porthos and Athos onto his back where he close his eyes. It hadn't been the most romantic moment in the world and none of them had lasted very long but none of that seemed to matter, it was quite wonderful. 

“Do you want me to go back to my bed now?” came a voice which broke Athos out of his post-orgasm bliss.

“No,” was the immediate reply from Porthos who got there before Athos could. Athos turned his head, opened his eyes and saw Aramis still lying on top of Porthos, his head tucked underneath Porthos' chin. He was watching Athos though so Athos smiled at him.

“We'll need to wash in a minute though,” Porthos continued. “Although I'm not sure all three of us are gonna fit in the shower.” He laughed and the movement of his chest had Aramis' head bobbing up and down. Aramis began to smile as well.

“It's a very large shower,” Aramis pointed out, his eyes were still on Athos and now he had a look of pure happiness on his face. Athos was pleased that they had managed to do that, they had made Aramis look that way. Perhaps sex was cementing his place in their relationship for him.

Porthos groaned. “Problem is, I can't seem to move.”

“Oh sorry,” Aramis said, immediately lifting up his head and looking down at Porthos, obviously ready to move.

“No, no, no” Porthos chuckled up at him. “I wasn't complaining.”

“But you're all sticky,” Aramis pointed out and nodding down to where their naked stomachs were pressed together. Athos tried not to think about the mess because he would only get anxious.

“Oh yeah?” Porthos raised his eyebrow. “And whose fault is that?”

“Yours!” Aramis protested and then burst out laughing. It was a noise which Athos found incredibly pleasing because it was the most genuinely joyous laugh he'd ever heard from Aramis. Athos watched as Porthos smiled up at Aramis and then reached up to stroke back some of his curls.

“Was that alright then? Did you enjoy it?” Porthos asked, the conversation turning a little more serious.

Aramis nodded his head. “Yes. It was a little different to what I'm used to but I liked it...a lot.”

Aramis' honestly felt like a weight being lifted off Athos' shoulders. Perhaps sex was okay if they were helping Aramis, teaching him, loving him...love...Athos' mind immediately went back to what Aramis had said the night before – I love you. Had Aramis actually meant it? Did Aramis even understand what he was saying?

“I'm sorry I finished too quickly. I don't usually do that until after my client or sometimes never at all but...”

Porthos silenced Aramis by tugging on his hair then and pulling him down for a kiss. It did shut Aramis up effectively, in fact he closed his eyes and moaned with delight. When the kiss finished Porthos kept Aramis' face close to his own.

“Do you hear me and Athos complaining?” Aramis shook his head as much as he could with Porthos' fingers in his hair. “We're not your clients, we're your lovers. Those are two very different things.”

“Okay,” Aramis whispered and, when Porthos let go, Aramis immediately buried his face against Porthos' chest again, closed his eyes and smiled. Athos and Porthos then looked at each other and joined in with the smiling. Aramis was happy. Maybe he still didn't really understand everything but he was content and happy and Athos wanted to make sure, now more than ever, that Aramis stayed that way.


	31. The First Shift

Despite having a very pleasant morning Athos was still desperate to get the week over and done with. Between Aramis getting worked-up over breakfast about his approaching shift at the restaurant that evening and Athos' mother calling the moment he got into the police station to see if he'd want supper when he arrived on Thursday, Athos just wanted it to be the weekend already. Thankfully there were enough distractions at work to get his mind off things temporarily although d'Artagnan and Constance were behaving very strangely. Athos wondered if they were just hung-over. Constance kept on disappearing off with Porthos and d'Artagnan just seemed to be sinking further into his chair until he was almost on the floor.

The third time Porthos disappeared off with Constance, Athos glanced over at d'Artagnan who was still looking incredibly pale and forlorn has he typed something on his computer. Athos did momentarily debate staying out of it but then reminded himself that he was meant to be in charge of their small team so the welfare of the other detective's was his responsibility. He stared down at the map which was on his desk and decided that he could use it to his advantage.

“D'Artagnan,” he called but didn't get much of a reaction. “Come over here a moment, I need your help.”

D'Artagnan didn't jump up from his chair like he normally would, his movements were a little more spiritless and slow which concerned Athos even more. By the time d'Artagnan actually made it over to the other desk Athos had almost lost the will to live. 

“Get Porthos' chair,” Athos suggested and that also took d'Artagnan a painfully long time and, once the chair was close to Athos, he all but fell down onto it.

“What's wrong with you?” Athos then asked, tact had never been a strength of his and d'Artagnan's uncharacteristic behavour was already annoying him.

“Nothing, sorry,” d'Artagnan said and attempted to sit up straight and lean forward to see what was on Athos' desk in order to determine what he might need help with. Athos almost pushed the map away, wanting to get to the bottom of why d'Artagnan's usual enthusiasm had disappeared but he wasn't sure if it was something he really wanted to get into so he decided to concentrate on work instead; that always helped Athos after all.

“I need you to read out a victim statement to me and, whilst you do that, I'm going to mark on the map the victim's movements so I can get a clearer picture in my head.”

Athos then passed d'Artagnan five pieces of paper but he had it open on the page needed. D'Artagnan read the statement in a monotone voice and Athos concentrated, drawing on the map the young man's movements up until the moment he was attacked. There was nothing unusual about the journey, just a straight forward route from the man's work place to his house. He claimed not to have stopped anywhere and he didn't know the attackers. Athos suspected that he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time as there was nothing to indicate that it was anything more than a violent robbery. Athos was staring at the map and taking note of what was close to the site of the attack, perhaps there was a witness, when d'Artagnan interrupted his thoughts.

“Athos, when you've done something which has really messed everything up, what do you do?”

With a raise of an eyebrow Athos turned to look at d'Artagnan who could barely meet his gaze. What had the lad done? Did Constance know about it? That would explain all of the secret meetings with Porthos.

“That's a very vague question, d'Artagnan,” Athos pointed out. “I'll need more details before giving you an honest answer.”

D'Artagnan appeared to be finding the hands in his lap interesting in a way that reminded Athos a little of Aramis when he was anxious. “Well I...it's a bit embarrassing really. I'm not sure I want you to know.”

“Well you started the conversation,” Athos pointed out and promptly decided that he wasn't going to force d'Artagnan to tell him if he didn't want to. 

“I know I...” d'Artagnan seemed to stop mid-sentence and Athos began to wonder if drugs weren't somehow involved in the robbery. It was such a violent attack on a man who, by his account, had already handed over his phone and wallet....so why would they beat him until he was unconscious? Usually that would mean something personal or they were desperate drug addicts. 

“I had sex with Constance.”

Athos' eyes went wide and his attention was immediately back on d'Artagnan who was now almost cowering beside him. “You...excuse me?”

“Well at least I think I did. I'm not entirely sure. I walked her to her front door and she invited me in. I think we had another couple of drinks. I can't even remember to be honest but I woke up this morning in bed with her.”

“Oh...” Athos sat back in his chair and contemplated the piece of information which had just been offered to him. He found himself at a complete loss about what to say. “Well...you might not have done. Let's examine the evidence.”

“Evidence?” d'Artagnan squeaked, now sitting up straighter. 

“Yes. Did you have your clothes on?”

“Umm...no.” D'Artagnan's voice was small but Athos still heard the answer.

“Did she?”

“I...I don't know. When we woke up she said something about 'oh my god' and then jumped out of bed. I decided to keep my eyes closed because I wasn't sure if she was naked or not.”

“Hmm...” Athos knew that he needed to interrogate a little further.

“Where were your clothes?”

“All over the floor...and in the hallway.”

“Do you have any evidence on your body which may give you some clues?”

“Evidence on my...?” d'Artagnan did look down at his torso as if he was checking. “I...I don't know. I haven't really looked. I feel okay, apart from a headache.”

“Has Constance given you the impression that she remembers?”

“No, she doesn't remember either. But, Athos, there was a....a...well....”

“Spit it out, d'Artagnan,” Athos snapped.

D'Artagnan's cheeks were starting to turn a shade of crimson red. “...a used condom on the floor,” he muttered to his lap very quickly but Athos had just about managed to hear. He cringed. That wasn't something he desperately wanted to be told but, on the other hand, at least they were safe in their mutual drunken states.

“Then I think we can conclude you had sex,” he said bluntly and leaned forward to the map again. If they were drug-addicts, where were the nearest hang-outs? D'Artagnan made some sort of strange noise which caught Athos' attention again and he was began to regret calling him over. He turned though and discovered that d'Artagnan had leaned forward and currently had his head in his hands.

“What's the matter?” Athos asked.

“I really like her,” was the mumble he got as a response. “But she's horrified about it. She wouldn't be horrified if she liked me back, would she?” D'Artagnan sat up and looked at Athos so pathetically that Athos couldn't find it in his heart to speak the truth. So he lied instead.

“She's probably just confused, like you are. Give her time to get her head around it.”

“Do you think so?”

No, Athos thought silently. She's probably so ashamed and embarrassed that she won't be-able to look you in the eye for a few days and I'm going to have to have a word with both of you about your inappropriate behaviour even though it will make me a complete hypocrite considering I'm in a relationship with my work partner. “...Absolutely.”

“Okay, I will then. Thanks, Athos.”

D'Artagnan seemed to relax then and Constance eventually reappeared which caused d'Artagnan to shuffle back to his own desk sheepishly. When Porthos came over to reclaim his own chair he raised an eyebrow at Athos and mouthed 'tell you later' before sitting down. Athos didn't want to be told later, he already knew far too much. He sighed and continued to stare at the map.

“Porthos,” Athos spoke when he realised he wasn't getting anywhere with his thoughts. “If we get a sketch artist to draw up some profiles of the attackers and take them to Charon, do you think he'd have a look?”

“Course he would,” Porthos said, leaning back in his chair and scratching his beard.

Athos believed him because Charon did seem to do whatever Porthos asked. Now Athos had a plan. He glanced over at the clock and realised that it was almost time for Aramis to take his second lot of antibiotics. He was about to pick up the phone on his desk when his hand hoovering over the receiver appeared to magically make it ring. Athos froze confused for a moment, until he realised that someone was obviously ringing him so he picked up.

“Detective Sergeant de le Fere.”

“Hello, Athos, it's Roussel. I hear you were after me?”

Athos sat up in his leather chair which squeaked as he did so. Finally.

“Yes!” He said, a little too fast before telling himself privately to calm down. “Yes, hello, thank you for calling me back.”

“That's okay,” Roussel responded. He sounded quite friendly and cheerful which was how Athos remembered him. It appeared that Roussel also remembered Athos. “How are you doing, Athos? I remember you from when we worked on that Martial case a few years ago. You were a brand new detective back then and now you're a DS already? Well done.”

“Thank you and well done to you as well, Inspector,” Athos said, as they were trading compliments. 

“Ah, my knees were starting to cause me problems, I only went for the promotion so I could spend more time behind a desk.” Roussel was laughing and Athos didn't know if he was being serious or not. “What can I help you with, Athos?”

Athos began to feel anxious. He had no-idea how Roussel would react to one of his old and very high-profile cases being dragged up again. He absent-mindedly reached for some paper-clips to mess-up and re-organise with his spare hand.

“I was hoping to talk to you about the Father Vincent case. You see, I have reason to believe that other adults may have been involved in the abuse and I wasn't sure if you ever suspected the same in the course of your investigation? I've been reading a lot of the files and I can't see any of the five boys indicating that they had been abused by anyone apart from Father Vincent.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone which made Athos worry for a moment. But he waited patiently and eventually Roussel spoke.

“Why do you think that other adults were involved?”

“I may have met someone who was a victim. He's a grown man now of course but he gave me that impression.”

Athos could hear a sigh coming from the Detective Inspector and once again waited for the man to gather his thoughts.

“Yes I...god, this is bringing up the past, sorry.” There was silence again before he eventually continued. “Yes. Five boys gave evidence but there were a lot more victims, I was always very certain of that. A lot of the past victims would have been teenagers by that stage of course, adults even. It was pretty obvious that Father Vincent had been abusing children for years by the time we found out and arrested him. We focused on the five youngest who were the most recent victims of the abuse in order to get the conviction but I did meet one boy, an older teenager by that stage, he told me a whole lot of things and yes, that did involve other men. Only something happened, the lad freaked out and then decided he didn't want to give evidence after all. He disappeared in fact. I still to this day don't know what happened to him but he was a crack addict so I can only assume the worst.”

“What was his name?” Athos asked curiously.

“God I can't even remember. Mathis something. I'll have it in my old records somewhere but it'll take me a while to find it.”

“No that's fine,” Athos said and realised that he had just wanted to make sure it wasn't Aramis. “Do you think it's worth looking into it?” Athos respected Roussel and if Roussel said yes, that would have meant something.

“I wanted to do it myself. I mean I knew there must have been more victims of that vile man. Some came forward when it all over the news but we already had plenty of evidence by then so we sent police counsellors round instead. And yes, I also wondered myself if more men were involved in the abuse after that interview with Mathis. Only none of the younger boys mentioned anyone else being involved and we got the conviction we wanted, Father Vincent at least was locked away and couldn't hurt anymore children. 

And then we had that eyeball serial killer, do you remember? No, you wouldn't have been on the force back in those days. Anyway, that took all of my attention and then something else did and then something else did. God, sometimes you have to let things slip through the net, you know? That was one of the ones which did. I'm not sure I can help you much though. That Mathis kid never really gave me much to go on when it came to the other men. I don't think he knew who they were. I never really got any helpful information from him at all. Look I'll at least dig out my old notes, I keep everything and send it to you, okay? I should have the names of the other victims we never interviewed somewhere. And anything else I can help you with, whatever you need.”

That was the sort of response Athos was hoping for.

“Thank you, that would be helpful. In fact whatever notes you have from that case which didn't make it into the file, I'd like to read them.”

“Sure, no problem. I'll do it in the next few days and courier it over to you.”

They exchanged a few more niceties before Athos finally hung over, his hand hoovering over the receiver even when he had put it down. That had gone better than planned. Perhaps they could go and interview some of these other victims that had come forward. That would be a good place to start at least. And properly talk to Aramis about it, see if he could help at all.

“I assume that was one of the detective's from the Father Vincent case?” Porthos' voice brought Athos back to reality. He pulled his hand away from the phone, let go of the paper-clips and looked over at Porthos.

“Yes, Roussel, he was very helpful. He himself wondered if there were other adults involved in the abuse.”

Porthos' frown said it all. “Then why the heck didn't he look into it?”

“There was a serial killer in Pairs at the time and he was put on that.” Athos watched the frown on Porthos' face deepen. “We're policemen, Porthos, we follow orders.” Speaking of which... “Can you ring the young man who was assaulted and robbed on his way home from work to see if he'll agree to meet with a sketch artist? I don't know where else to go with this.”

“Yeah course.”

Whilst Porthos got busy with that Athos quickly rang Aramis. It wasn't long before midday and he wanted to remind the man to take his next lot of antibiotics. Aramis answered his mobile phone immediately.

“Hello, Athos, how are you?”

“Well thank you. You? What have you been up to?”

Aramis sounded cheerful as he responded. “I went to the library to see if there were any damaged books which they were going to throw out. They had a couple. And then I helped them out for a bit because no-one had sorted out the second-hand books which they sell at the door for a while. Now I'm home.”

Athos smiled, pleased to hear that Aramis had gone out and enjoyed his morning. “Good, remember to take your antibiotics now and then wait a little while before you eat lunch, okay?”

“Oh yes, thank you, Athos. I was just about to make lunch. You know...I feel a bit unwell though...” Athos had a feeling that he knew what was coming. “...I might phone Mr Mathieu and say that...”

Athos decided to interrupt before Aramis had finished his excuse. “Aramis, you're going to be fine. Working for Mr Mathieu will be no different to helping the ladies at the library, apart from the fact you'll be paid. Just give it a go. If you hate it, no-one is going to force you to go back again.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone and Athos wished, not for the first time, that Aramis had more confidence in himself.

“Alright,” came the quiet response eventually. Athos quickly tried to think of something else which might help.

“Porthos and I will come back early so we can see you off and we'll stay up for when you get home, okay?”

Once again the reply took a long time in coming but eventually Aramis said 'okay' and Athos wished that he was there so he could give Aramis a reassuring hug. 

“See you before five then.” Athos put the phone-down and was grateful that Porthos was busy talking to the assault victim because he hadn't been paying any attention to the conversation.

They both kept themselves busy that afternoon, arranged for a sketch artist the following morning, had a look at some of the other cases which hadn't been solved to try and get some headway with them. It turned out to be a bit of an unproductive afternoon but Athos decided that they could still justify disappearing off to get home before Aramis headed off for his shift. In the car on the way home Porthos told Athos the secret he already knew.

“...she woke up with them both naked in bed. They had sex, drunk...neither of them can really remember anything.”

“I know,” Athos pointed out. “D'Artagnan confided in me.”

“He did?” Porthos glanced over before his eyes went back onto the road. Athos wasn't sure why that was such a surprise to Porthos. “Umm...well that's good! I was hoping the kid had someone to talk to about it. What did he say then?”

“He was distressed because he likes her and she appeared to be horrified.”

“She wasn't horrified!” Porthos protested. “Well...I mean she was. She was more embarrassed I think. She's not the type to do that sort of thing, as we both know. But she does have feelings for him so that must have fuelled the drunken passion. So he likes her as well? Well...that's interesting news. “

Athos watched as Porthos began to grin and made a quick decision to stay the hell out of it. His own love life was currently complicated enough without having to get involved with others but Porthos could do what he wanted.

By the time they got home Aramis was looking pale and his leg was bouncing furiously as he sat on the sofa-bed in his new white shirt and black trousers which he looked incredibly dashing in.

“You're going to be fine,” Porthos promised, sitting beside the man. “Listen, look at me...” He cupped Aramis' cheek and forced the man to turn his head. “You're getting yourself worked up over nothing.”

Athos came over holding a glass of water and passed it to Aramis who took it and gulped some of it down immediately. He then held the glass back out to Athos who walked over to the coffee table to put it down before planting himself on the armchair whilst listening to Porthos.

“You look so handsome, Aramis and people are going to love you. Who cares if you mess up once in a while? All you need to do is flash them that gorgeous smile of yours and they'll forgive you immediately.”

Aramis smiled a little at least and his leg began to calm down. “Okay, thank you,” he said although he sounded quiet and not convinced.

“You'll be late if you're not careful. I'll give you a lift, come on.”

Porthos moved to stand up.

“No! You don't have to!” Aramis immediately protested and stood up as well. Porthos eyed him for a moment and obviously came to the same conclusion which Athos had. If they let Aramis go by himself he would probably never arrive at the restaurant.

“Nah, it's fine. Come on. I want to take you.”

“But...” Aramis looked over at Athos as if help but, instead, decided to use Athos to his advantage. “Then Athos will be alone with Frodo which might make him anxious and...”

“It's good for them to bond,” Porthos pointed out. “Or Athos could come with us, I don't mind.”

Athos said that he was fine as he wanted to get more work done anyway then he watched them both leave before silently praying to a god he didn't really believe in that Aramis would have a nice evening and he'd come back with a lot more confidence.

By the time Porthos arrived home Athos had finally caught up with all of his work emails and everything had been organised into the correct outlook folders.

“Was he alright?” Athos asked, looking up from his position sitting on the carpet beside the coffee table. Frodo was nearby lying on the carpet but had thankfully kept a respectable distance.

“Yeah,” Porthos smiled. “Mr Mathieu must have a sixth sense of something because he actually came out to meet him which was really nice. As soon as Mr Mathieu started talking to him Aramis seemed to relax and went inside. He'll be fine. Breaks my heart that he automatically thinks he's going to be awful at everything though.”

Athos nodded. “Well we don't know what people have told him during his life. I suspect they haven't gone out of their way to make him feel good about himself. Apart from when it comes to his abilities in bed...”

“Yeah.” Porthos came over and bent forward to place his hands on Athos' shoulders, gave them a squeeze and then kiss the top of his head. “You wanna go and visit some houses this weekend? I got a couple of viewings. I know you'll want to work this weekend because of the funeral but we could just pop out and see stuff? Take Aramis with us.”

“Yes certainly,” Athos said, not wanting to discourage Porthos from the house-hunting. He did want to have a living-room again after all and more than one bedroom.

“I'll go and make you dinner.”

Neither of them could really settle that evening. Porthos seemed to get lost in his cooking and Athos did some cleaning around the house. Whilst Aramis was doing a fine job at keeping the house clean it wasn't quite at the same standard their previous cleaner had managed. Eventually they both settled in front of the television but it still seemed to feel like an eternity until they heard the front door open just past eleven. Frodo immediately jumped up and raced into the hallway to greet his best-friend. Athos partly wished he could do the same but waited on the sofa-bed with Porthos. 

“Frodo!” They heard a cheerful cry which Athos considered a good thing. Aramis didn't sound miserable at least.

“How did it go?” Porthos shouted when Aramis seemed to be taking his sweet-time taking his coat and shoes off. Eventually the man appeared, with the dog still jumping up at him.

“Yeah it was fine,” was the non-committal response. Aramis' attention was on the dog though. 

“What did you do?” Porthos asked, pushing further for information. Aramis this time looked up and smiled at them both before sitting down onto the carpet to stroke Frodo.

“I...umm...well I spent the first hour in the kitchen with Mr Mathieu. He was talking to me, asking me lots of questions about you two. So that was nice and I got to watch him cook. He gets very shouty in the kitchen, not at me though.”

Porthos chuckled, “Yeah chefs tend to shout a lot. Especially the Italian ones.”

Athos was slightly offended that Mr Mathieu obviously still didn't trust them but he was equally as pleased that Mr Mathieu was still looking out for Aramis. Although goodness knows what Aramis had told him about their relationship.

“Then...” Aramis continued. “...I went to...what did they call it? Oh yeah, the front of house. Tara is one of the people who works in the front of house. She greets people as they come in, checks to see if they have a reservation or tries to squeeze them in if they don't. So I was helping show people to their tables and I had to say...'Take a seat, so and so will be here shortly to take your drinks order.' And then I sometimes helped clean up the tables when it was getting busy.”

“Wow,” Porthos leaned forward, Athos could see that he was grinning. “Sounds like you did a lot in one evening. Did you enjoy it?”

“Yeah,” Aramis admitted almost shyly, still using Frodo who was lying across his lap as something to look at. “I was worried that they'd make me take the orders which I didn't want to do but they didn't. I just showed people to their table and tidied up afterwards. So it was okay.”

“They'll train you up before they make you wait tables,” Athos explained, hoping that was the case. “They won't just throw you in at the deep-end.”

“Yeah.” Aramis did look up this time and smiled slightly at Athos but then his smile faded and he licked his lips briefly as he was working himself up to say something. “Could we...could we not have sex tonight? I'm feeling really tired.”

Aramis stared back down at the dog again which was good because it meant he didn't catch the expression of shock that Athos was quite certain was currently on his face. Where did that come from? Athos was about to respond and ask that very question when he felt a squeeze on his leg which he knew by now was code for 'shut up and let me do the talking'.

“Aramis,” Porthos said, sounding very calm. “Of course we don't have to have sex tonight. Not if you're tired. Thank you for telling us how you feel. Do you want a drink or anything before you go to sleep?”

Aramis' eyes immediately shot back over to them, he looked baffled at the response then he let out a breath which he had obviously been holding and smiled. 

“Yes...I mean no, no thank you. I just want to get ready for bed and sleep. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, mate,” Porthos began to move, shuffling off the sofa-bed to get up onto his feet. “You wanna sleep here alone or with us?”

“With you!” Aramis said, clearly not even needing to think about the answer and now he too was scrambling back up onto his feet like he was suddenly excited. Athos suddenly realised that Porthos had handled the situation perfectly because Aramis had probably never in his life attempted to tell someone that he didn't want sex before. But he had done it, with them, and Porthos had said exactly the right thing.

“I'm so proud of you.” Porthos went over and enveloped Aramis in a giant hug. He then looked over Aramis' shoulder at Athos and smiled, Athos smiled back. Aramis was doing so well. He had a job and he was learning how to ask for what he wanted. Yet, Athos knew full well that he was going to have to talk to Aramis about Father Vincent and Marsac's court case at some point very soon. Neither were conversations which he was particularly looking forward to.


	32. The Visit Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Super long chapter!
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes, wanted to get it up as quickly as possible. I've changed from saying Mister to using M. because it's more French so please forgive me for the change.]

There were good things and bad things about sleeping downstairs, Athos decided just after he had woken up and was musing silently whilst lying in bed. The nice thing about it was that the sofa-bed was much larger than the bed upstairs and you could easily fit three grown-men onto it as long as those grown men were prepared to sleep within a very close proximity to each other. The downside to sleeping downstairs was the fact Frodo snored almost as loudly as Porthos did. Still, Athos managed to get a decent amount of sleep before waking up to the familiar feeling of dread which had been a lingering shadow over the past few weeks. It was another busy day; Ninon first thing, then the sketch artist then off to his parent's house. 

Even though it was a busy day he allowed himself a moment to turned his head and watch Aramis sleep. The man was curled up on his side with Porthos' arm wrapped around his chest which he was clinging onto with enthusiasm. Aramis looked incredibly sweet whenever he shared a bed with them. He always seemed to have a soft smile on his face which implied to Athos that he felt safe with them. Athos had a twinge of apprehension about leaving Aramis alone for the night but it wasn't like Aramis hadn't coped before. In fact the man had survived his teenage years living on the streets. One night in a warm house with a friendly dog wasn't anywhere close to being as dangerous as that. 

There was no time for any naughtiness in bed that morning, something Athos informed them of sternly, as they had their meeting with Ninon first thing. They somehow all managed to get there on time, mostly due to Athos' getting impatient with them both, and Ninon greeted them at her office door with a cordial smile.

“Gentlemen, do come in.”

Athos followed her in first with the other two close behind. Athos decided not to sit in his usual seat this time but opted for the chair which was closest to the bookcase. He examined her books for a moment, reading the spines as the others settled. Ninon attracted his attention when she spoke.

“It's so good to have all three of you here. Thank you for coming, Porthos and Athos. I just want to reassure you all that anything you say in this room stays in this room. It is all completely confidential unless I believe that some harm may come to one of you and we have fifty minutes, then I will have to end our session and we'll continue next week.”

Athos nodded and turned to look at the other two who were sitting in their own chairs alongside him. Aramis, in the middle, was sitting on his hands and his legs were bouncing up and down like Athos knew they did when he was either apprehensive or anxious. Porthos just looked grumpy with his arms folded across his chest whilst staring at Ninon like he didn't trust her in the slightest. Athos had never quite managed to get to the bottom of Porthos' dislike of counsellors, then again Porthos didn't seem to like social workers either although Athos could understand that one a little more from what he knew of Porthos' childhood.

“In the last session Aramis and I discussed what we might like to talk about when you're both here and we came up with a couple of things didn't we, Aramis?”

“Yes,” Aramis said, leaning forward in his chair slightly as he sat on the edge in complete contrast to Porthos who had sunk into his seat. “But one of those things got sorted.” Aramis smiled which caused Athos to wonder what that 'thing' had been.

“That's good to hear,” Ninon said and smiled back at him. Athos' eyes darted between the pair of them until he couldn't stand it any longer.

“What has been sorted?” he asked curiously. Had they actually managed to do something helpful for once?

“Sex,” Aramis blurted out, turning to look at Athos. “We had sex again, more properly this time although still not really properly but at least now I know it's okay. I was so confused about it before but now I'm not because we did it.”

That made sense to Athos who had seen the smile on Aramis' face and heard him laugh after they had all been intimate together. Had that really solved all of the confusion in Aramis' head? Did he really understand it all now? Athos felt relieved. 

“We ain't talking about that,” came a voice from the other side of Aramis and Athos leaned forward slightly to see that Porthos now appeared to be crossing his arms even more fiercely as if hoping they'd protect him from what was happening. “We ain't talking about that here.”

“Talking about what, Porthos?” Ninon asked in her calm, pastoral voice.

“That,” Porthos said which didn't really explain anything but Athos knew what he was getting at. Porthos' behaviour didn't seem to shock Ninon though, of course it wouldn't. She just smiled at Porthos in an understanding manner.

“That's absolutely fine, Porthos. Aramis, Porthos doesn't know me like you and Athos do. So he's a little bit uncomfortable right now. So let's leave talking about sex for a moment and talk about the other thing you wanted to discuss.”

“I can't remember what that was,” Aramis admitted and now appeared to jittery once more. One of his legs was hoping again. Athos wanted to reach out and place a comforting hand on Aramis' knee but he resisted.

“You were telling me about how you wanted to work, so you could earn some money and give it to Athos and Porthos,” Ninon prompted.

“Oh, yeah! I did work. I worked last night at the restaurant and it was okay.”

Not even Ninon could hide the relief which briefly flashed across her face which Athos didn't blame her for, he knew exactly how she felt. “That's wonderful news, Aramis. That's a big thing, well done. Will you go back?”

Aramis nodded with a pleasing amount of enthusiasm. “Yes. M. Mathieu suggested that I do two shifts a week so I'll do that. I think the days are going to be different each week because I'm going to work with Tara. He's going to write it all down for me.”

“Aramis, that really is good news. How do you feel about it?”

“I'm happy because I want to work. I told you, I want to work.”

Athos sat back and listened. He was pleased that Aramis had someone to talk to, someone who cared about how he was feeling and knew how to encourage him to open up. Whilst Porthos and Athos had tried it always seemed more problematic when their own emotions were involved but Ninon, Ninon was an outsider and she had no personal investment in their relationship; she just wanted to help. Athos hoped that Porthos would realise that eventually and relax around her.

“I know. Why do you want to work?” she was asking.

“So I can give Athos and Porthos money.”

Athos immediately felt the need to protest, not wanting Ninon to think badly of them. “Aramis, we don't need the money, we keep telling you, it's not important.”

“But it's important to Aramis,” Ninon pointed out. “Aramis, why is it important that you give them money?”

Aramis paused for a moment and appeared to think about the question. He glanced over at Athos and Porthos once in a while before his focus returned to Ninon who was sitting opposite him. “Because that's what you should do.”

“And why's that?”

“Umm because when someone looks after you, you give them money.”

“Who did you give money to before you met Athos and Porthos?”

"The person who was running the brothel who then gave it to Marsac.”

The name immediately made Athos feel tense. His fingers curled into fists as the anger he felt towards Aramis' previous 'lover' came back to the surface.

“And before Marsac? Was there anyone else?” Ninon asked, obviously not wanting to dwell on that man either for the moment.

“Umm...there was this man called Franck who I met whilst I was living on the streets. He's the one who told us where to take the stolen cars to. I didn't really pay him though...no I didn't pay him. But I worked for him, I was always the look-out and he brought me food and sometimes clothes when I did well. Yeah, he brought me a winter coat once after mine was stolen. Well, actually he might have stolen it from the store, I'm not really sure. But it was big and warm and I liked it.”

Athos heard Porthos suck in some air so leaned back to check he was okay. Porthos wasn't even looking at them, just staring furiously at the wall straight ahead.

“Who the fuck would steal a coat off a homeless child? Seriously,” Porthos muttered in disgust and appeared to be speaking to himself only Aramis didn't realise and answered the question anyway.

“Well it's very cold in winter, Porthos so a lot of people need coats then.”

“Aramis,” Ninon said to focus his attention again. “Has anyone ever given you something and not expected anything in return? So they haven't expected you to work for them or have sex with them or to steal stuff for them or anything. They just gave you something because they were being nice. Can you think of one time when someone has done that?”

Aramis went quiet for a while and it took him a painfully long time to come up with something. In fact, it was taking him such a long time that Athos wanted to just reach out and hold him forever.

“Oh!” He eventually said. “Yes, Porthos once gave me money after I'd had a fit and I was in the hospital so I wouldn't have to work that night. Although...well...I guess he did want me to give him information about Marsac back then so I'm not sure that counts...but that was very nice of him anyway.”

Dear god, Athos thought in his head, Aramis really couldn't think of a single time.

“Actually M. Mathieu, yes M. Mathieu was always giving me food and he didn't want sex or anything else really. He just liked sitting and talking to me. Oh and Athos and Porthos keep buying me lots of nice new clothes. Oh yes, they do that although I'm going to pay them back for it when I've saved up enough. But, in the meantime, I'm doing their cleaning for them.”

Athos suddenly felt the need to explain once again. “He wouldn't just take stuff from us,” he told Ninon. “So the cleaning thing was the compromise...”

“It's okay,” Ninon said and raised her hand to stop Athos from explaining any further. “I think that's a good deal you have going on there. But Aramis, do you realise that sometimes people do nice things for someone, just because they want to be nice and they don't expect anything in return?”

“Yeah I know,” Aramis said, sounding quite certain about that despite the difficulty he had just experienced thinking of times when it had happened to him. “I know that some people are nice.”

“Good. So, when Athos and Porthos say that you don't need to do anything in return and they don't want your money...”

“...or sex...” Aramis interrupted.

“...or sex...” Ninon confirmed, her eyes briefly glancing at Porthos as she spoke. “...you should believe them. Sometimes being nice to someone makes you feel good. Do you like being nice to people?”

“Yes I like making people happy,” Aramis pointed out enthusiastically. 

“Well other people feel the same. I'm not saying that the cleaning deal you have isn't a good idea, because it is. But you shouldn't feel like you owe Athos and Porthos anything. Does that make sense?”

Aramis squinted and seemed a little unsure. “I...think so. But...I should still give them money, right?”

“Athos, Porthos, what do you think?”

Athos wasn't sure what he was meant to say and Porthos wasn't saying anything at all. He waited for a moment to see if Ninon was going to help him out but she remained quiet and Aramis was now looking at him expectantly so he quickly had to think of what he considered to be fair. 

“Why don't you give us a percentage of your wages and keep the rest for yourself?” He eventually suggested. “Say...you give us a third and then keep the rest for yourself.”

“A third?” Aramis questioned. “That's not very much. I used to give Marsac all of my earnings because he was the one that paid for my apartment and he gave me money for food...”

“We're not Marsac,” Athos said abruptly. Whilst he knew that Aramis couldn't help bringing up the man who had been such an important part of his life, Athos just hated hearing the name.

“I know. But your house is much nicer and you feed me better food and you pay for Frodo's food so I don't understand why you only want a third.”

Ninon obviously decided to help out and join in again, much to Athos' relief. “Aramis, do you work for Athos and Porthos?”

“No...”

“Then why would you give them all of your money? It's a very different relationship, do you know what I mean by that?”

Aramis nodded. “Yes. It is very different.”

“In what way do you think it's different?” Ninon asked. The question immediately made Aramis' head drop and he squeezed his hands together on his lap. “It's okay,” Ninon encouraged, witnessing the man's sudden nervousness. “This is a safe place, remember? You can say whatever you like here and no-one is going to mind.”

Aramis nodded again and let out a sigh before he finally spoke. “They don't tell me to have sex with other people.”

Athos felt alarmed by the answer and Ninon perhaps shared a little of that feeling as she paused for a moment before responding with, “Well that is a big difference.”

“And we won't ever ask that of you,” Athos pointed out, wanting to make sure that Aramis understood that. “Because that's wrong, very wrong. Marsac shouldn't have ever made you do anything and neither should have anyone else. You know...if there was anyone else apart from Marsac that made you have sex with other people when you didn't want to.” Like Father Vincent, he thought silently in his head. 

“Yeah I know,” Aramis said and began to smile. “We hardly ever seem to have sex with each other, let alone anyone else!”

Athos wanted to rub his face in exasperation but resisted. Porthos, however, finally engaged in the conversation and lowered his arms. “But that's not because we don't like you. We just want to take it slow. You know that, right? We've talked about this before.”

Aramis nodded.

“Do you understand what Athos and Porthos mean when they tell you that, Aramis?” Ninon asked softly.

“Yes. I do now. I didn't for a while but now I do. They both like me but it's different with them. Really different. I like it though. I want sex more than they both do but I'm being patient.”

“I'm sure they both do want sex,” Ninon explained, trying to be helpful. “But all this is as different and as confusing for them as it is for you. Sometimes it takes a while to work things it and to see how things are going to be. So it's good you're being patient with them. And have you been-able to tell them more how you feel? And ask them the questions that you want to ask? Do you remember us talking about that earlier this week?”

Aramis nodded. “Yeah I have and they've both been very helpful.”

Athos was pleased that they had been 'helpful' at least. Now he knew that remaining calm whilst Aramis unexpectedly asked questions about orgies was obviously the right thing to do. Porthos appeared to finally smile before reaching across to give Aramis' hand an encouraging squeeze. 

“Well, what I suggest we do then...” Ninon continued. “...is use the time we have left together to talk through anything which is confusing any of you. Even you Athos and you Porthos. I can sit here as a mediator, try to bridge any gap in communication if you need me to. But, really, this is just a space for you three to talk things through.”

The rest of the session they ended up talking about the bedroom situation. Athos hadn't realised that Aramis was completely confused about when they could share a bed and when they couldn't and if he was welcome upstairs or if he had to wait until he was invited. It then evolved into a conversation about their new house and Aramis having his own room and what that would mean. Athos wasn't entirely sure that they really ended up with a clear answer to Aramis' concerns but Aramis at least appeared to be a happy by the time the session with Ninon finished. They had all decided that Aramis would have his own room for the time-being in the new house but they would make sure that the main bedroom was big enough for all three of them to sleep there some evenings and Aramis was welcome to be honest about the times when he wanted to share a bed (which Athos suspected would be most of the time so he made a mental note to buy a new bed, a very large one).

They saw Aramis out of the police-station, thankfully his visit had gone unnoticed by Treville. It was then time to greet the sketch artist before they all clambered into the car and headed off to the house of the young man who had been attacked. 

After they were invited inside the house Athos sat in the living-room silently as the young man, whose bruises were now starting to fade from his face, attempted to describe what he remembered about his attackers. Unfortunately the details he gave were rather vague but sketch artist did her best to come up with something which did result in three rough compositions. Porthos was doing a fine job saying all of the right things to the young man who was clearly trying to shrug off the event and put on a brave face. Athos discovered the truth behind the bravado when he went into the kitchen to help the girlfriend make coffee. She told Athos that her boyfriend had been having nightmares ever since the assault which reminded Athos a little of the nightmares Aramis had suffered after Marsac had attacked him. Athos gave the girlfriend his usual reassurance that they'd do everything in their power to catch the men because that was all he could think of to say.

Later on that afternoon Athos and Porthos popped back home to pack a few things before heading for the two hour drive to Pinon, north-east of Paris.

“It's very different to Paris,” Porthos noted as he stared out at the farmland. 

“Yes it's a little...out in the sticks. Actually that isn't entirely true, there is civilisation here somewhere. In fact there are almost two thousand people living in Pinon.”

“Wow, two thousand?” Porthos asked sarcastically. “Where?” he then added, watching all of the fields whiz past.

“Well not in this part. But not far away. We're nearly at the house actually, just five minutes away now.”

Porthos continued to peer at the scenery. “Your family own some land right? How big is the land?”

“Porthos,” Athos hesitated for a moment, not really wanting to tell him but he eventually decided to just be honest. “We've been driving through it the past few minutes.”

Athos suspected that his boyfriend's jaw dropped although he was too busy concentrating on driving to check. Athos had never liked telling Porthos about his family. Porthos had been brought up in the care system whilst Athos had been brought up in one of the richest families in France. And yet Athos had turned his back on it all and he only hoped that Porthos would understand why once he had met his mother.

Turning into the driveway Athos stopped at the familiar iron-gates with the lion-heads guarding each side. He rolled down his window and reached out to press the modern intercom button. He had no-idea who he was speaking to on the other end but, once he had mentioned his name, the gates began to creek and open.

“Fucking hell,” were Porthos' first words as the estate house loomed before them.

“Yes it's...large,” Athos acknowledged, pointing out the obvious but he wasn't sure what else to say. Yes the house was huge. Athos and Thomas used to play hide-and-seek as children and often spent an entire afternoon looking for each other because there were so many rooms to search in.

Athos parked up right at the front of the house but then couldn't find it within himself to get out of the car. Getting out the car meant that he'd have to speak to his mother and he wasn't entirely sure he was ready for that yet. Porthos, however, got straight out. Athos watched through the window-screen as Porthos strained his neck to look up at all of the windows.

“Fucking hell,” he heard Porthos say again before Porthos seemed to turn to look at something. Athos watched as two figures came out of the front door and headed towards them. One was his mother, wobbling about on the cobbles in her high-heels. The other was M. Hubert who had worked for the family since before Athos had been born. 

“Darling!” His mother cried and Athos felt obligated to finally get out of the car and greet his mother before she said anything offensive to Porthos.

He attempted to smile, he really did, but his mouth wouldn't move. His mother didn't seem to notice his uncomfortableness though as she came closer and flung her arms around him. The fur which lined her coat tickled his nose but he attempted to hug her back briefly feeling her far too skinny frame beneath his hands. She had always been slim due to her obsession with fad diets but now she was almost gaunt. Her grey bob and make-up would have still made her still appear beautiful to anyone that didn't know her well but Athos could feel her bony ribs beneath his fingers and, when he pulled away, he saw how pronounced her cheekbones had become.

He wondered if she had been unwell but didn't get the chance to ask because she was looking over his shoulder and staring at Porthos.

“Oh...you have someone working for you now?”

Dear god.

“No, mother, he doesn't work for me. This is Porthos...my boyfriend.”

Porthos straightened up and walked over, holding out his hand in a friendly manner to greet her. Athos cringed inwardly, praying that his mother wouldn't be rude to Porthos. Much to his surprise she reached out immediately and shook Porthos' hand although she was staring up at him looking rather baffled.

“I...lovely to meet you,” she managed to say. So far so good, Athos decided. They had somehow shocked her into being polite. Once she had let go of his hand her attention returned to her son. “You didn't tell me you were bringing someone. Well, this is awkward, the cook only made enough dinner for two but I suppose we'll have to make do.”

She spun around and began to march back to the house. Athos rolled his eyes knowing full well that the cook always made enough food for an army. He made sure that he gave Porthos an encouraging smile before they both followed her into the house.

Once they were standing in the grand hallway Athos' mother turned back to them both briefly.

“Well most of the spare rooms are made up, darling, so I'm sure you can find one for Porthos to use if he's staying. Why don't you both go and get dressed for dinner?”

With that she left, disappearing off into the drawing-room which gave M. Hubert the chance to finally speak.

“Maître Athos, it's so good to see you.” His smile was enhanced by the wrinkles around his eyes and Athos managed to smile back properly this time. He didn't know how old M. Hubert was still going, through sheer stubbornness of not wanting to stop working Athos suspected.

“It's good to see you too,” Athos said and genuinely meant it. 

“I'll go and fetch your cases.” 

Before Athos had the chance to protest the car keys had been stolen from his hand and M. Hubert disappeared. Athos sighed. For most people going home meant warmth, familiarity and happiness. As he looked up at the walls and found paintings of his ancestors staring down at him disapprovingly, Athos just wanted to leave.

“What did she mean by getting changed for dinner?” Porthos whispered. “All I brought was the suit for the funeral and what I'm wearing now.”

Athos turned to his boyfriend. “Don't worry about it. What you're wearing now is fine.”

“I'm wearing jeans,” Porthos pointed out. Athos reached over and squeezed Porthos' shoulder reassuringly. 

“And you look devilishly handsome. Don't worry it won't be a dinner party it's just the three of us. She's just very....traditional. I don't think she realises that the world has moved on.”

“I do feel like I've walked into Downton Abbey,” Porthos pointed out which made Athos laugh.

“Come on. And you're staying in my bedroom as well, ignore what she says.”

Athos led them both upstairs and down the hallway towards his old bedroom. He always stayed in that room whenever he was forced to visit home and his mother hadn't dared change anything in it. Athos had a suspicion that Thomas' room also hadn't been touched, it was probably just as frozen in time and now completely unused. Athos hadn't been inside that room for many years, fearful of the emotions it would reignite.

Once inside the bedroom Porthos explored. There wasn't much in the room and what little there was had been perfectly organised thanks to Athos' OCD. The wooden furniture was all old and expensive, most of it creaked and had been attacked by woodworm's once or twice but it all gave the room a certain character. The four-poster bed in the middle of the room had once belonged to Athos' great-grandmother. In fact Athos had a feeling that his great-grandmother had died on it, which was rather morbid so he decided not to mention that to Porthos.

“This is...fuck,” Porthos muttered as he walked around, stopping to look out of the window down at the expansive gardens below. “I knew you were rich, love, but this is...”

“I know,” Athos interrupted with a sigh. “It's quite something else seeing it. But I'm not rich, I mean my parents are. I've refused their money ever since I finished University.”

“But won't you get all this?” Porthos asked, turning back to look at Athos for a moment. “When they die.”

Athos shrugged. It was something he didn't like to think about because he didn't even want it.

“My great-grandmother lived until she was 102. My grandmother is still alive at 90. My mother has inherited their genes, so I doubt I'll be getting anything for a long time yet...unless we kill her off.”

“That's a shame,” Porthos said, not commenting on the murder idea. “We could turn this into an amazing children's home,” Porthos was smiling and staring out of the window again. “Can you imagine? They'd have a great time running around in that garden. How many bedrooms does this place have?”

“Ten en-suite rooms and eight staff rooms on the floor above."

“Eighteen bedrooms,” Porthos chuckled, obviously thinking about the idea. “And two kids could easily share each one if they're all huge like this so, with people to look after them, I reckon this place could house at least twenty-five kids...”

Athos left Porthos to his fantasy and opened up his old wardrobe. He always kept a few clean shirts and a couple of trousers at his parents house. He pulled off the t-shirt he had been wearing to drive and put on a blue shirt in an attempt to make himself feel a little more refreshed. He also had sudden strong urge to wash his hands so he left Porthos in the bedroom to go into the en-suite. Opening up the cupboard underneath the sink Athos discovered that his tower of soap was still there. He pulled one out, unwrapped it and turned on the hot tap to wash his hands. Once turned to twice, twice became three times and then he had to get to five.

“Is this Thomas in these photographs?” Porthos called from the bedroom.

“Yes,” Athos said. He knew which photographs Porthos was looking at as he only had three framed photographs in his room and they were all of himself and Thomas. Two were of them both as children and the third had been taken when Thomas had come to visit Athos in England whilst Athos studied there. That was the last time Athos saw Thomas before the accident.

“He's a handsome bloke,” Porthos said. “How old was he when...”

Athos didn't talk to Porthos much about it but, as Porthos was asking, Athos saw no reason to keep it from him. He patted his hands dry with the clean towel before going back into the bedroom.

“Nineteen. He was on a gap year when it happened.”

Porthos glanced over at Athos and nodded sadly before placing the photograph he had in his hand back onto the desk. Thankfully Porthos didn't ask any further questions and it wasn't long before they were 'called' down to dinner by the metal gong.

“I can't believe they still use that thing,” Athos muttered as they left the refuge of the bedroom and walked back down the marble staircase. “It's not like there's a household full of people to summon to dinner anymore,” he was muttering, mostly to himself before being greeted by M. Hubert bowing at the door.

“I'll put your cases into your room, Maître Athos.”

It rather amused Athos that he was still being called Maître despite the fact he was well into his 30s but he supposed, to M. Hubert, he'd always be that little boy hiding up a tree in the garden.

“Thank you,” Athos said with a smile and then took Porthos into the dining-room. The table in the dining-room was large enough to fit a small party of people so his mother looked a little ridiculous sitting at one end by herself. Porthos stumbled on a rug, his eyes distracted by studying the room in awe. Eventually they both made it to the table and both sat on the same side, Athos closest to his mother.

“I spoke to the cook and she was able to add a little more food,” Athos' mother explained. Athos looked at the spread. The table was full of various cuts of meat, bowls of steamed vegetables, piles of potatoes and plates of cheese; clearly the cook had gotten confused and thought that another ten people had joined them. It was over the top and extravagant but it was making Athos' stomach groan with delight.

“Thank you,” he said, biting his tongue for the purpose of being polite. He picked up a cloth napkin and placed it across his lap. Porthos watched and then did the same.

“Would one of you like to say grace?” his mother then asked. Porthos' mouth opened but nothing came out. Athos suspected that the whole situation was overwhelming his boyfriend slightly. So Athos decided to volunteer himself nobly. He closed his eyes, lowered his head and spoke to a god he wasn't entirely sure he even believe in.

“Lord, thank you for this food, thank you for family and I pray that you draw near to us as we attend the funeral of Aunt Camille tomorrow. Oh and I also pray for world peace, the end to famine and for France to win the next World Cup. Amen.”

He opened up his eyes and began to reach out for various serving spoons and piled up his plate with meat and vegetables. Meat, it had been a long time since he had eaten any thanks to living with a vegetarian. After watching Athos collect his meal Porthos did the same. Athos was pleased that Porthos didn't hold back and gathered quite a mountain of food. Athos' mother just sat there and watched them both. Athos knew she would be annoyed at his 'grace' but the child inside him didn't care.

“So, Porthos,” she eventually said, shuffling her chair forward. “What is it that you do as a career?”

Athos rolled his eyes because he had told her countless times what Porthos did but he wondered if this was her attempt at making conversation so he kept his mouth shut.

“I'm a detective. I work with Athos in the Special Investigations Team.” Porthos explained, pausing from his eating to talk to Athos' mother. 

“I see. And what special investigations are you dealing with at the moment?”

“Umm...well...we're actually on a few cases at the moment. We've stepped in to try and solve an assault, also there's ongoing case with a brothel owner and drug dealer and, also, we've started looking into a historical child abuse case.”

Athos thought that Porthos had summed everything up perfectly without giving too much away. He smiled at Porthos to provide a bit of encouragement and received a small smile in return.

“It sounds like the crime never stops in Paris,” Athos' mother noted before finally gathering her own food.

“Crime never stops anywhere,” Athos pointed out. He knew that his mother had a thing about Paris. She seemed to assume that it was where all of the debauched citizens of France gathered to live. In fact she had once blamed Paris for turning Athos 'gay' after his divorce and tried to insist that he leave the city immediately. He, at the time, had completely ignored her.

“Yes, darling, you're right of course. In fact only the other week Madame Bonnin had her purse snatched whilst she was out shopping.”

Athos had no-idea who Madame Bonnin was and didn't care enough to ask. He ate some of the food, enjoying the juicy slices of beef. Whoever the cook was these days they had done a good job with the meal.

“And what do your parents do, Porthos?” she then asked. Athos was pleased that she did at least appear to be interested in engaging with Porthos although he strongly suspected that she was only asking questions to try and catch him out somehow to add more fuel to her 'how dare you have a boyfriend' fire.

“My mother died when I was younger and I never knew my father so I don't know what he does.”

In fairness to Athos' mother she put her cutlery down and actually looked sympathetically across the table. “I'm very sorry to hear that. No young boy should grow up without a father. How on earth can they learn to be a man if they don't have a man around to guide them?”

She then continued to eat and Athos hoped that Porthos wouldn't respond to that statement because he was in no doubt that his mother had now decided that Porthos had turned gay because of the lack of a father figure in his life or some such nonsense.

However, before Athos had the chance to change the subject completely, his mother spoke again. “It's nice you've brought Porthos here, Athos. I keep telling you that you should bring your friends over sometime. I want to meet them.”

“He's more than just a friend, mother.”

She ignored him. “We have plenty of spare bedrooms. Whenever your father and I are both away you're always welcome to use the house and bring other friends over. It'll give the staff something to do after all.”

“Yes, we wouldn't want them to have a break,” Athos muttered.

Porthos ignored his grumpy boyfriend for the most part and responded by being perfectly polite in return. “That's very kind of you. You have a lovely house.”

That made Athos' mother smile with pride. “Thank you. Has Athos ever told you about the history of the house?”

Porthos shook his head and, for the next ten minutes, they were treated to the entire history of the building. Athos stayed silent whilst internally fuming at his mother although he wasn't entirely sure why as she had yet to say anything offensive. In fact she did seem to be on her best behaviour which he found unnerving. 

Despite the fact they had been substantially overfed they both still managed to force in some dessert. By the time dinner had finished it was getting late.

“You two should rest. Will you be joining us for the funeral tomorrow, Porthos?”

Porthos looked rather taken back by the question. He stiffened in his chair. “If that's okay?”

“Certainly,” she patted the corner of her mouth with a napkin before placing it on her plate. “I told my chauffeur to be ready at eleven so that gives you some time in the morning to explore the grounds if the weather is nice.”

Porthos was grinning, Athos was frowning. What was wrong with her? He decided to investigate so told Porthos that he would join him in a minute once they had finished. Porthos appeared to get the hint and wished Athos' mother a goodnight before leaving the room.

“You are aware that Porthos is my boyfriend?” he suddenly asked as soon as Porthos had left.

“Your friend seems very nice. Very polite.”

“Mother...” Athos attempted to interrupt but she wasn't listening to him as usual.

“...and he's black, which is different. It's nice to have friends from different racial groups. The black staff we used to have here were always so lovely and hard-working. I was sad to let them go when your father insisted that we reduce the size of the household.”

“Yes that must have been very traumatic for you,” Athos sighed. If she wasn't going to listen to him then he wasn't even going to bother. “Goodnight, mother.” He got up to move but, as he did so, she lurched forward abruptly and reached out for his hand. Her thin fingers squeezed his own. It certainly made him stop moving.

“You're not going to stay with me for a few minutes? I've not seen you in such a long time, darling, spend some time with me.”

Athos stared at her for a moment. She had never asked that before. Slowly he sank back into his chair. 

“Are you unwell?” he asked because there had to be some logical explanation for her behaviour. 

“No!” She said, a little too quickly and pulled her hand away. “Why do you think I'm unwell?”

“Because I brought my boyfriend home to see you and you're being incredibly nice to him.”

She tutted and shook her head. “Darling, I could never tell you what to do, even when you were a child you never listened to me. If you want to be one of those...homosexual people then you will be regardless of what I say. It's all Anne's fault for hurting you so much, it's her I blame not you. Nothing I say seems to make a difference.”

Whilst being one of the most ridiculous things Athos had heard in a long-time he actually felt relieved that his mother had finally accepted the fact there was nothing she could say or do which would change anything.

“No it doesn't.”

“Are you honestly angry at me for being nice to Porthos?”

Athos thought about it and began to realise that he actually was which was absurd. He was angry that she wasn't living up to her dragon reputation and Porthos would now never believe him whenever he spoke about how awful his parents were.

“Your father has a mistress.”

The comment came so out of the blue that it felt like cold water to the face. 

“You're old enough to know about this now,” she continued. “He has always slept with other women but this one is different. He's spending time with her, even taking her away for holidays. He's not in Dubai working at moment he's with her. He's missing his own sister's funeral to spend time with some...harlot. I suspect he may ask for a divorce soon.”

Athos didn't know what to say. She wasn't looking at him anymore, she was staring down at the table but Athos couldn't take his eyes off her. Her felt sorry for her and angry at his father, so terribly angry.

“Mother, I...I'm so sorry.”

“Well now you know,” she said, patted his hand and then stood to get up. “I'll see you both in the morning.”

Then she left leaving Athos sitting by himself at the expansive dining-room table completely stunned.

It took a while for Athos to get his legs to move because he was in complete shock. Once he eventually re-entered the bedroom Porthos was pacing about on the phone.

“Oh alright, good. Did you remembered to take your antibiotics before dinner?”

Athos left Porthos to his phone-call and sat himself down to the bed to pull off his shoes and go over what his mother had told him in his mind. His father was having an affair and this was just one in the a long-line of affairs. How had Athos not known? He never got on with his parents but he never thought that his father was...was...like that.

“Is someone with you, mate?” he heard Porthos ask. 

Athos sat on the bed for a while in a bit of a daze.

“Something ain't right,” Porthos announced and it took Athos a few seconds to realise that he was being spoken to. “He said he was on his own but there was a voice in the background.”

“Probably the TV,” Athos muttered, assuming that he was meant to give some sort of a response. 

“No, someone was there. I heard them say Frodo.”

“Probably watching Lord of the Rings,” Athos pointed out, unable to really think clearly.

“No, someone was there, I swear it. And he lied to me. Fuck, Athos, we need to go back. I'm sorry, I know you've got this funeral, but we need to go back and find out what's going on. I can go back on my own, if you like? I don't want to upset your Mum but why would Aramis have someone in the house? He doesn't have any friends. What if he brought someone back to have sex with them? The fact he lied about it means it's something not good. Fuck, Athos, what should we do?”

Athos turned his head to look up at Porthos. Porthos was standing there clearly distressed. The room began to feel suffocating so Athos got up to go and wash his hands.


	33. The Funeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr - https://www.tumblr.com/blog/stardust-009
> 
> I have a couple of other writing projects as well as this one on the go at the moment but I'll continue to try and update when I can!

Athos frantically rubbed the soap over his fingers, between his fingers and then all over his hands. He cleansed every part of skin before washing the soap suds off in the hot water. Then he reached out for the towel to pat his hands dry before doing it all over again. He rubbed the bar of soap between his hands and washed them once more.

“Athos...” Porthos said, he had now joined Athos in the en-suite and had been watching silently up until that moment. “You tell me when you've calmed down so we can talk.”

“I am calm,” Athos insisted, although he was aware that his current frantic hand-washing was telling a different story.

“Then what do you think we should do? Should I go back?”

Athos wanted to leave; Athos wanted to leave that very instant. He wanted to escape the house and forget all about it. He wanted to forget about his parents and their marital problems and forget about the memories of Thomas which always surfaced whenever he came home and still hurt so much. But he couldn't. His mother had opened up to him for the first time in their entire relationship so he couldn't just leave, at least not so suddenly.

“Let me talk to Aramis,” came the conclusion he eventually got to. If they could discover what was happening over the phone there and then that would solve one mystery at least and perhaps make the decision process a little easier.

So, without even washing his hands for the fifth time, Athos dried them off and went back into the bedroom where Porthos followed and passed Athos his mobile phone.

“He doesn't usually lie,” Athos explained as he stood there flicking through Porthos' numbers. “And we've been trained in interrogation techniques after all, I'll get it out of him.”

"Hi, Porthos." The voice on the other end of the phone sounded chipper but Athos knew that didn't necessarily mean anything. If someone was watching Aramis then he would indeed try to sound normal.

"It's Athos," he explained first off. "Listen to me, Aramis, if you're in danger right now say 'yes, I'm fine."

"What?" came the confused response. "I'm not in danger."

Athos was getting flashbacks to a similar confusion he'd had with Aramis a long-time ago. Although it wasn't that long ago really, it just felt like another lifetime. So Athos, wanting to make sure that Aramis completely understood, did the same thing a second time. 

"If you're nervous about speaking to me because someone else is there, say 'I took the dog out for a walk."

"I did take Frodo out for a walk, but that doesn't mean I'm nervous. Why would I be nervous?"

Athos attempted to establish if Aramis sounded nervous but it was difficult to tell over the phone. Aramis showed everything in his facial expressions and Athos, at that moment, couldn't see those. “Then I want you to be honest with me. Is someone in the house with you?” 

Whilst Athos had been expecting an immediate denial on Aramis' part he didn't get it. All he got was silence and made him worry. Porthos was right then, someone was in the house.

“Yes,” came the small voice. That wasn't really the answer Athos had been hoping for but at least Aramis had been honest.

“Who is it, Aramis?” More silence but Athos waited patiently, snapping at Aramis was going to do nothing in the circumstances.

“I'm making sure they're okay like you said we should. You were right, we should have checked they were all okay.”

Athos' mind immediately went back to the walk with the dog and the conversation they'd both had about the other workers in the brothel. He had deceived Aramis with his questions but Aramis had obviously taken everything very seriously. Did that mean Aramis had been visiting brothels? Athos internally cringed at the thought.

“Who's in the house, Aramis?” he repeated, desperately hoping that it was a fellow prostitute and not one of Aramis' old clients. 

“Alexei,” Aramis finally admitted. “I went looking for him whilst you were at work yesterday but I couldn't find him. So then I thought about it and today I found him on the street where I used to hang out to get work. He's not very well, Athos, so I brought him back here to give him some food and I said he could sleep here tonight because you're not here and he's not well and I'm really sorry I didn't mean to lie to Porthos.”

“It's okay,” Athos said immediately, hoping that his interruption which force Aramis to take a breath. “It's okay. What do you mean he's not well, what's wrong with him?”

“Umm...” There was a pause although Athos could hear Aramis moving about. Athos wondered if Aramis was heading somewhere else in the house so that this Alexei couldn't hear the conversation. “...he's just not well. I think...I think he needs to stop injecting heroin. He doesn't look very good.”

Athos sighed. Great, they had a heroin addict in their house and Aramis was alone with him. Perfect. Although this did give Athos a very helpful opportunity to interview someone who might have been given drugs by Marsac. No, he told himself off in his head, that isn't important, Aramis' safety is what's important.

“We'll be home late afternoon tomorrow,” Athos pointed out. “Will you try to get him to stay until then? We might be-able to help him. Get him into a rehab programme or something like that. Do you think he'll stay if you say he can?”

Aramis sounded surprised. “I...I don't know.”

“Well try. Don't force him. And, Aramis, I'm going to text you Constance and d'Artagnan's mobile numbers so, if anything happens, you phone them straight away, do you understand? If you're scared or worried or anything you call one of them, okay?”

“Okay.”

“If Alexei does anything stupid or scary don't worry about the house, just leave with Frodo, alright? Call Constance or d'Artagnan and one of them will come and get you.”

“Okay.”

Even though Aramis seemed so sweet and innocent at times, Athos knew that he had been through more than most people could imagine and had managed to survive so he had to trust that Aramis would be-able to deal with the current situation sensibly. 

After telling Aramis that he would see them tomorrow and then spent time trying to figure out how Porthos' phone worked so he could send Aramis the numbers he had promised, just in case, he eventually noticed that Porthos was glaring at him.

“You wanna tell me what the fuck is going on?” His boyfriend rightfully asked and Athos immediately felt guilty. As with everything it was his fault. He had brought up the conversation with Aramis which had obviously been playing on Aramis' mind and now a heroin addict was in there house and it was his fault.

“You can blame me,” Athos explained and sighed as he sat down onto the bed. Porthos didn't join him, Porthos remained standing with his arms folded as he waited for an explanation. Athos decided to give him one as it was the least he could do. “I was thinking about what the prosecutor in Marsac's case said in regards to finding other prostitutes that could potentially evidence against Marsac. I may have briefly asked Aramis once what happened to the others that worked in the brothel. And then I had to make up an excuse about how I just wanted to check that they were okay. Anyway, Aramis must have been thinking about it because he has managed to find someone and that person is now in our house.”

“Why is that person in our house?!” Porthos asked, not sounding very pleased about the situation.

“He's going through withdrawal or something, I don't know.” Before Porthos could panic too much Athos decided to add... “Aramis has experience of these things. He has been around drug addicts most of his life. He'll be fine.”

“Fine? There's a drug-addict in our house alone with Aramis and that doesn't worry you?”

“It's another prostitute, Porthos, he won't hurt Aramis.”

“And how do you know that for sure? People do stupid things when they're off their faces on drugs. I've been around drug addicts as well, Athos, they're unpredictable.”

Athos watched Porthos march over to the window and seemingly glare at the begonias outside. It was strange, Porthos had gone from inviting tearaway teenagers into their house without worrying about the consequences to now panicking about the fact someone was there. But someone was there with Aramis of course, he was just being protective of Aramis. 

“I'm sorry,” Athos offered, hoping that an apology would diffuse the situation. “I know it's my fault.”

“Yeah it bloody is,” Porthos mumbled, still staring out into the garden despite the fact it was dark outside. “But I'm not mad at you. I just don't know what to do. I don't want to let you and your mum down but I'm worried about Aramis.”

“Then go home,” Athos suggested. “It's fine. I can tell my mother that something came up with work and you had to leave. I'll stay for the funeral, she won't mind, she wasn't expecting you to be here anyway.”

Porthos sighed and finally turned to look back at him, perching his backside on the window-sill. “But she has been really nice to me which I know, from the stuff you've told me about her, is a big deal. I feel like it's important to stay.”

“Then stay, go, I don't care,” Athos mumbled and turned away to begin undressing. It was getting late, he was tired and his mother had given him a headache. He didn't have the brain power to figure out a solution to everything.

“Hey...hey...” he heard Porthos say and it wasn't long before the big man had come over and was kneeling down on the carpet next to the bed. Athos tried to ignore Porthos for a few seconds as he undid the buttons of his shirt but Porthos placed his hands on his knees in a bid to get his attention and Athos' temper was diluted by the big brown eyes. “You alright? You've been off ever since you came back up to the room. Did you have a row with your mum?”

Being asked suddenly gave him the permission to tell. He didn't want to argue with Porthos, he wanted to tell Porthos everything.

“My mother told me that my father is having an affair.”

Porthos knelt up straight and his arms slipped off Athos' legs. Judging by the look of surprise on his face that clearly wasn't what he had been expecting to hear.

“Wow...what?”

“He has had many but she seems to think that this one is different and their marriage will end soon. She didn't say much else, she just wanted to inform me.”

“I...wow,” Porthos clearly didn't know what to say but his warm hands were soon back on Athos' legs and Athos appreciated the physical reassurance. “I'm sorry, love. I know you're not close to them but that's still a shock, huh?”

“You can say that again,” Athos explained. “They care so much about what the rest of the world thinks of them, I never thought they'd ever divorce. That would be bad for their image after all, so it is a surprise. I'm not sure my mother knows what to do about it.”

“Well what can she do about it? If he wants a divorce...will she lose all this? I mean it's his house and his money isn't it?”

Athos nodded. His mother had never worked. Even when himself and Thomas were young she had relied on nannies and housekeepers to be a mother on her behalf. Her own father had gambled most of her inheritance away. She really was very reliant on her husband.

“I'm sure she'll get a good settlement in the divorce,” he eventually said after giving it some thought. “But yes, she might have to move out of this place.” It felt strange for Athos to think of his mother not living at the house anymore. It was her home and she spent far more time in it than his father ever did. He knew how much it would break his mother's heart to have to leave and he actually, despite everything, began to feel really sorry for her.

Porthos reached up and tenderly stroked some of Athos' hair away from his forehead. “It'll be alright, okay? Even if they do divorce, they'll still both be okay. Ain't no point in you stressing about it, alright?”

Athos nodded because Porthos was right, his parents were grown-ups who they really needed to sort out their own issues. What could he do? Still, he couldn't help but feel angry towards his father. Only none of it was Porthos' fault, or Aramis'.

“Go home to Aramis,” Athos suggested, because that would solve one problem at least. “I'll stay for the funeral.”

Porthos shook his head. “Nah, it's late now, I wouldn't get back until the early hours of the morning. Might as well wait until tomorrow and we can go back together after the funeral.”

Athos strongly suspected that Porthos was now just as worried about him as he was worried about Aramis which made Athos feel guilty but the way Porthos was moving up and coming towards his lips stopped Athos from protesting. Their lips quickly met and Athos closed his eyes, not even caring when he was pushed back onto the bed and Porthos climbed on top of him. He didn't care because he liked it. He liked having Porthos covering him because it felt safe being underneath Porthos.

Porthos eventually pulled away from the kiss to stare down at Athos and brush his wayward hair back again. Eventually he smiled.

“I love you,” he said fondly “So much that it hurts sometimes.”

Athos smiled sympathetically, very aware how much Porthos loved and how difficult it must be for him choosing Athos and Aramis to love with all of their respective issues. 

“I'm very lucky to have you,” Athos responded, trying to make Porthos feel as cherished as Porthos made him feel. “And, tomorrow, I will be very proud to have you there with me as my boyfriend.”

Porthos' eyes opened wide as if he was astounded by Athos' statement. Athos worried that he had said the wrong thing for a brief moment but then the lips were back, kissing with even more enthusiasm and vigour this time. Hands were rapidly tearing at his open shirt until it was tugged off his arms leaving him topless and sprawled underneath Porthos on the bed. It wasn't long until his trousers were missing as well and there was soon an equally naked body over his, rubbing against his own. 

He reached up, fingers curling into Porthos' hair, tugging with eagerness as Porthos growing erection brushed up against his own. Athos was gasping, groaning and arching on the bed as Porthos' hands explored and stroked over his skin until he was flipped over. There was a brief pause where Porthos disappeared but it wasn't long until he returned and wet fingers were slipping inside him. Athos threw his face down onto a pillow to stop himself from crying out too loudly. Gasped swear words escaped his lips though and he gripped tightly, trying to stop wiggling on the bed in anticipation as he was stretched open.

Eventually, just when Athos' patience was running out, Porthos was slicked up and inside him, gently rocking into him and Athos could no longer keep quiet, he groaned with pleasure. The noises appeared to spur Porthos on to thrust a little harder. And, the louder Athos got, the faster Porthos went. The constant slapping of Porthos' hips against Athos' arse-cheeks and the creaking of the bed just joined in with the chorus.

“I love you,” Porthos kept on whispering from behind, his large cock thrusting up inside repeatedly. Athos couldn't speak, he never could when Porthos was taking him. It felt equally dirty and delightful having sex in his parents house. In fact it mostly made Athos feel extremely naughty which just caused him groan lustfully even more, his own leaking cock rubbing up against the bed-sheet, trying to find friction to ease the tension in his body.

As Athos continued to be driven into thoroughly there was a thought which entered his mind...Aramis. He wondered what Aramis would look like being taken by Porthos. What noises would he make? Which positions would he prefer? The thought excited him. The fantasy of being inside Aramis himself, pounding into that beautiful body, just make his cock throb and, when he was tugged up onto his knees, thick fingers wrapping around his erection, he was grateful. It wasn't long before he was finishing, gasping out Porthos' name as he spurted liquid all over the bed-sheets in shivers and bursts of satisfaction. Porthos finished quickly afterwards. With a loud grunt and one hard final thrust, Athos felt Porthos spilling inside of him.

Then they were both panting, Athos' dropped his forehead onto the pillow and then his knees gave way and he sunk back down onto the bed, Porthos collapsed with him, still inside as he softened. His heavy body pressed down on-top of Athos as they both fell onto the bed.

“I hope your mother didn't hear that,” Porthos eventually said once he had his breath back.

“I hope she did,” Athos retorted cheekily.

The funeral was a funeral. Athos sat somewhere in the middle of the small picturesque chapel with Porthos by his side as his mother kissed everyone on the cheek at least three times before eventually sitting with them just moments before the service started. 

Athos glanced around in boredom during the priest's sermon. He recognised a few people from his father's side of the family who were actually slightly more sane and pleasant than his relatives from his mother's side. There was, however, a lot of ridiculously over-the-top hats and fake tears being shed. 

As the service went on Athos began to ponder what Aunt Camille would make of it all. He didn't know her well, partly his own fault for semi-disowning his family, but he had fond memories of her from when he was a child. He had always been a serious, quiet child that would sit with the adults silently as Thomas and his cousins raced around getting all of the attention. Aunt Camille noticed him though as she never quite fitted in herself. She often took Athos away for a stroll around the garden and asked him questions about what he was doing at school and what interesting books he had been reading. Aunt Camille liked to travel so she would, in return, tell Athos stories of all of the exotic locations he had been to and the interesting people she had met. Aunt Camille had never married or had any children of her own. Athos suspected that she considered men and children a burden which would have slowed down her adventures.

After the funeral, when the coffin had been taken away, they all gathered in a house nearby owned by someone that must have known Camille in some capacity and, like the others, was probably hoping that they were mentioned in the will. Athos promised Porthos that they wouldn't stay for long, he didn't want to force Porthos to be around his family for longer than was necessarily. 

The first people that came over to say hello were two of Athos' cousins and they happened to be the two cousins which Athos could actually tolerate. One of them was clearly very pregnant and, when Athos introduced Porthos as his boyfriend, loud enough so that everyone close-by would hear, they both did an impressive job of not looking too shocked. In fact they welcomed Porthos in a friendly manner and his pregnant cousin Amelia even called her husband over to meet them both. Amelia's husband also turned out to be equally pleasant and polite. Athos was starting to get frustrated at his family's friendliness. Still he was quite certain that he could rely on the older generation to be homophobic and racist so was secretly pleased when his mother called them over because he wanted someone to prove his point.

They walked over to where his mother was standing with another woman around the same age who had the most impressive curls in her hair. Athos suspected that she was wearing a wig.

“Darling, do you remember your Father's cousin Freda?”

Athos did remember Freda. Or he remembered Freda's three sons who had terrorised Athos whenever they came over to visit. Athos hated them and so, as a consequence, he hated Freda for giving birth to the three spawns of satan. Her husband had died many years ago and, according to the gossip he had unintentionally gathered from his mother, she was now into toy-boys. He immediately didn't like the way she was looking Porthos up and down with a smile on her face.

“Of course,” Athos said politely and stepped a little closer to Porthos to protect him. “Hello Freda. This is Porthos, my boyfriend.”

Freda froze and Athos was pleased as that was the reaction he had been hoping for. She was shocked, surprised, appalled, disgusted...

“Oh my god, why didn't you tell me that Athos had a boyfriend?” Freda said to Athos' mother. “I'm so jealous! I always really hoped that one of my boy's would be gay.”

What?

The comment appeared to shock Athos' mother as much as it shocked Athos. She was staring at Freda like the woman had gone mad.

“Umm...”

“And what good taste you have, Athos,” was Freda's next comment. She held her hand out to Porthos who took it and gave it a kiss. Freda giggled like a school-girl. Athos was horrified and actually ended up looking to his mother for help. She appeared to understand his panic and interrupted.

“Freda, sorry, the boys need to be head back to Paris soon. I have to drag them away.”

And she did so, much to Athos' relief. Outside the house Athos continued to be baffled by the behaviour of the people he had spent his life resenting and hating.

“What's wrong with them all?” Athos asked his mother. “They were all being nice to Porthos.”

“Darling, this is your father's side of the family,” she explained, brushing some non-existent fluff from the shoulder of Athos' suit. “They're all polite on the surface, the evilness lies just beneath. Although, if I had known that having a gay son was considered fashionable these days, I would have told them.” She turned to Porthos. “Well it was nice to have finally met you after all of this time. I hope that, now you realise I'm not the ogre Athos has probably told you I am, you'll both come back to visit more often.”

“I'd like that very much,” Porthos said with a smile. “Hopefully for longer the next time.”

Athos wasn't sure what else to say to her. Part of him wanted to stay, to talk to her more about the affair, to see if there was anything he could do but they'd never had that sort of relationship, certainly never one where they spoke about feelings so he wasn't really sure what to do. He eventually made the decision to step forward and hug her. He felt her stiffen in his arms at first before she eventually relaxed and, when he pulled away, Athos could have sworn she looked a little emotional. He felt the urge to make some sort of a promise, some sort of reassurance that he would support her if she needed him to.

“I...I'll call you tomorrow,” he blurted out instead. “So we can talk.”

She looked confused which wasn't much of a surprise considering he never called her. But then came a small smile, a small nod and Athos thought that she looked slightly happier.

“Have a safe journey home, darling,” she said and, just as she was turning to walk away, she added, “If there's any good news about Camille's will I'll let you know. Hopefully we didn't go to that dreary funeral for nothing.” She then walked off and Athos rolled his eyes. 

They wasn't a lot in the way of conversation on the way home apart from Porthos commenting on how Athos' family actually seemed very nice although his mother was indeed quite a character. All Athos was thinking about was his father and the growing rage he felt towards him. Not only had this father missed his own sister's funeral, he had done so in order to spend time with his mistress, which was unforgivable as far as Athos was concerned. Athos didn't know how much of his father was in him but, in that moment, he hoped it wasn't much at all.

Aramis entered his thoughts as they re-entered Paris. He knew that Porthos had been texting him through-out the day so Aramis was okay but Athos wasn't sure what to expect when they got home. What they were greeted with was a very excited dog which Porthos protected Athos from before Aramis appeared in the hallway in a state which Athos could only describe as flustered.

"You're back!" He said, pointing out the obvious as he ran his hand through his dishevelled hair. Porthos attempted to get past the jumping dog in order to get to Aramis.

"Yeah we are, you alright?"

"Yup," Aramis said but it sounded sound very convincing. "Alexei is still here. I said he should stay here, like you said, Athos."

Athos felt half pleased and half guilty that Aramis had managed to talk Alexei into staying. Still there was no reason why they couldn't try to help him even if Athos' underlying intention was to gather more evidence against Marsac.

When they walked into the living-room Frodo raced over to a mound of blankets and duvets on the floor. It took Athos a few seconds to realise that there was a human inside it. The face which snapped to look up at them was incredibly pale and clearly very fearful. Athos recognised the man with the short brown hair and a slim face, probably from the brothel raid back when they had first arrested Aramis. He had a vague memory of the man being Russian.

"This is Athos and Porthos," Aramis said before and going over and sitting on the carpet next to the bundle. "They can help you, like they helped me." 

Athos didn't have a clue what to do as Alexei was looking at them with his eyes wide like he was about to bolt at any second. Porthos began to walk calmly across the room but not towards the two men on the carpet, he avoided them both and went over to the arm-chair. He casually sat down onto it and smiled warmly.

“Hello, Alexei, I'm Porthos. Aramis said that you're not very well. Is there anything we can do? We care about Aramis so we care about his friends.”

Alexei was staring at Porthos and didn't make any attempt to speak. Athos watched as Aramis reached out and placed his hand on the duvet. Alexei wouldn't have felt Aramis' hand at all through the material but Athos thought it was a sweet gesture anyway.

“They've really helped me,” Aramis promised. “They might be-able to help you.”

Alexei snorted, lowered his gaze and said quietly in a foreign accent, “You can't help me.”

“We have connections,” Porthos said. “Rehab centres, drug support counselling, whatever you need.”

“I need a hit. I feel like shit.”

Aramis looked over at Porthos and Porthos sighed. “We can't give you that. We can only help you if you want to stop, if you want to change your life, if you want to break free from your habit.”

“It's not that fucking easy, is it?!” Alexei yelled and Aramis jumped before pulling his hand away. Athos took a step forward protectively, ready to intervene if Alexei got aggressive.

“No, it's not easy,” Athos interrupted, speaking from experience. The light blue eyes turned to glare at him now instead. “Nothing about it is easy. But living with an addiction isn't easy either. It consumes your entire life as you well know. Going through a few months of pure hell in order to be free from it is worth it, I promise you.”

Alexei stared at Athos for a moment which was when Athos looked past the bad skin and blood-shot eyes and noticed how young Alexei was. He was younger than d'Artganan. It was Alexei who broke the stare first.

“I tried before,” he confessed to the floor whilst starting to rock himself back and forth. “I tried. I can't do it. I just start again. I can't stop because I can't do what I do without it. I need to be somewhere else when the men are...are...”

Athos felt strange being the only one standing up so went over to Porthos and slid himself down onto the floor at Porthos' feet. He hoped that, by being on the same level as Alexei, he'd appear less threatening. He had his second agenda playing on his mind but he wasn't sure how to bring up. Porthos spoke before he had the chance to say anything.

“Well you don't have to do that anymore. Aramis has stopped. No-one should have to sell their body like that, not for food or drugs or anything.”

“But Aramis has you,” Alexei pointed out, looking over at them again. “And he never touched drugs...I...I don't know why. I don't know how he didn't.”

“Marsac told me not to. He said they were bad and would hurt me. He told me never to take anything,” Aramis explained in a way that implied he did every single thing Marsac ever said to him, which Athos sadly suspected was true but, still, Athos was pleased that Marsac had stopped Aramis from taking the drugs. It was probably the only single thing Marsac had ever done right. He clearly wasn't so bothered if the rest of his workers were addicts though, Athos suspected that it was an easy way to control them. He suddenly saw his chance to bring it up.

“When you worked in Marsac's brothel, were you paid in money or drugs?”

Athos was grateful that he had back his to Porthos because he didn't want to see if Porthos was annoyed that he was asking such questions. He looked straight at Alexei whose face scrunched up a little in either confusion or thought.

“I...well...I used to get money which I used for smack but then...then when Nashiko came, she just gave me the gear.”

“And where was Nashiko getting the drugs from?”

“That guy who used to come in sometimes.”

“Marsac?”

Alexei shook his head. “No...no not him. The other one...the one with the glasses...the one that used to visit you...” He turned his head to look at Aramis for help.

“Gilles,” Aramis responded and then turned to Athos. “I think it was Gilles that collected the money and brought the stuff in.”

Damnit, Athos thought silently. Marsac really was clever as he never touched his own supply, he had other people do that for him. How on earth were they going to connect Marsac to the drugs when Gilles and Nashiko did the in-between work? Gilles wouldn't budge and goodness knows if they'd ever find Nashiko or any of the others which used to run his brothels, let alone get them to turn.

Alexei suddenly appeared more nervous and his head darted between them all. “Why are you...why are you asking me these things?”

“No reason,” Athos said quickly. “Sorry. Just wondering how it all worked.”

“Why?” Alexei said again and then appeared to be getting up to move, although it was hard to tell with the duvet and blankets wrapped around him. He did appear to get taller like he was now kneeling. Athos panicked, he had messed up and he also had completely forgotten to ask Aramis what he had told Alexei about them. Did Alexei know they were police? He didn't want to mention it, just in case that would freak the Russian out.

“Are you starting your own one?!” Alexei suddenly asked which baffled Athos. Own...wait what? “Is that why you're keeping Aramis here?!”

Alexei got up and dropped the duvet. Then he bent forward and grabbed Aramis forcefully underneath his armpit, dragging him up onto his feet. Athos got up as well, startled by the sudden change in behaviour.

“No!” Porthos yelled, joining them all by standing. “God no. We're not planning to start up a brothel. That's the last thing we'd ever do. We want to help you.” Porthos put up a hand to try an calm the situation. Athos watched as Alexei gripped so tightly onto Aramis' arm that Aramis was flinching.

“I...I lied to you. I'm sorry,” Aramis admitted, the panic clear in his voice. “They're policemen but you're not in trouble. They're the good kind. They want to help people.”

Alexei let go of Aramis and stumbled away from him, recoiling in horror.

“P...policemen?”

“Yes, detectives,” Aramis explained. “They put Marsac in jail and now they're helping me. They can help you as well. They can help you come off drugs and find a nice place to live and...”

“Aramis,” Athos tried to warn Aramis off from continuing. He didn't want Aramis telling people that he was living with the cops that had brought Marsac down as it might still put him in danger. But the damage was already done and Aramis wasn't paying much attention to him.

“No, no,” Alexei said. “Cops don't do nice shit like that, Aramis. They're using you. Please, come with me. We need to leave.”

Alexei grabbed his arm again and began to drag Aramis out of the room towards the hallway. Athos sensed Porthos move so reached for Porthos' shoulder to stop him quickly. He didn't want Porthos to scare Alexei any further, the man was clearly already on the edge.

“You don't understand!” Aramis was protesting even though he did allow himself to be dragged out into the hallway although he was trying to tug his arm free. “There are nice people who want to do nice things because they're nice, not because they want anything. Athos and Porthos are nice people like that. I know that now, I learnt that yesterday. Please...Alexei, you're hurting me.”

Athos and Porthos followed them but stood away from the doorway where they could both still see Aramis and intervene quickly if they needed to. Frodo, however, not holding back like they were was starting to bark at Alexei. The Russian, perhaps afraid of the dog, let go of Aramis and stood there staring at him for a few seconds before his gaze returned to Athos and Porthos momentarily. Then he stepped forward towards Aramis again.

“Maybe you're right. I hope you're right. But I can't stay here because I don't trust cops. Aramis, if you like it here then stay but I can't, I'm sorry.”

Alexei moved forward to pat Aramis on the shoulder before turning and grabbing a thick coat off the coat-rack. The next thing Athos heard was the front door opening and then slamming shut. Aramis remained standing there looking stunned and Porthos went straight over to him.

“You tried, you tried,” Porthos said softly, Aramis immediately turned the second Porthos got close enough and threw himself against Porthos. Porthos wrapped him up tightly in his arms and held him as Aramis buried his face into Porthos' shoulder. 

Athos watched them both. So, trying to get the other prostitutes to give evidence against Marsac probably wasn't going to be successful, especially when Marsac never brought the drugs to the brothels himself. There was only one thing for it...Aramis would have to testify.


	34. The Notebooks

Athos watched Porthos and Aramis embrace for a while. Porthos really did have the best arms for hugging and Aramis looked so safe and secure surrounded by them, his eyes closed and cheek pressed against Porthos' shoulder. Athos began to feel like a spare part so decided to go and put the coffee machine on. Good coffee made every situation more manageable. 

He walked into into the kitchen and immediately noticed some unwashed plates and cutlery in the sink. It didn't matter, he told himself quickly, it didn't matter. Only it did matter to him and he only just managed to get the coffee machine going before he couldn't stand it any longer and he went back over to the sink to wash up. 

As he scrubbed at a plate to get it clean he couldn't shake the feeling of increasing nervousness as he tried to figure out how he could talk to Aramis about Marsac. He'd have to be honest and explain that Marsac might not spend much time in jail unless they could make sure that he was found guilty and, for that, they'd need Aramis' help. But Aramis wouldn't want to help, would he? He had helped put Marsac in jail in the first place but to stand in that witness box, having to face Marsac...no, Aramis wouldn't be-able to do it. But he had to, he had to do it. The alternative was Marsac being back out again and having access to Aramis...

“Athos!” 

He was being called. He looked over his shoulder towards the living-room area where he saw the legs of Porthos and Aramis on the sofa-bed.

“Come over here a second, love!” Porthos suggested but Athos hadn't finished making the coffee yet and he couldn't leave something half-done.

“In a minute!” he shouted back. He quickly dried his hands and grabbed three clean mugs.

He eventually walked into the living-room carrying three mugs of coffee. Porthos smiled and sat himself up. Aramis, who had been clinging onto the side of Porthos, slowly let go and sat up against the back of the sofa-bed as well, reaching out for a coffee with a modest smile.

“I was just telling Aramis...” Porthos began to explain as he took a mug. “...that this weekend someone from a lettings agency is going to come here to look around and discuss putting this house up for rent so we can start looking for a bigger place.”

With everything else going on Athos had once again completely forgotten that ongoing idea. He was actually rather relieved that Porthos hadn't forgotten and appeared to be quite happy organising the situation by himself.

“Good,” Athos said and cradled his own coffee in his hand as he perched onto the foot of the bed. The fact that they were sitting on a bed in the living-room instead of chairs just once again served as a reminder as to why they needed a bigger place. “I'll probably head into the office tomorrow, I have a lot of work I want to get done. But you can stay here and meet this lettings agent, if you like?”

“Yeah, or we could work from home?” Porthos suggested with a shrug. “You know, stay with Aramis for a day. You did promise we'd house-hunt this weekend.”

Athos couldn't remember promising anything but he accepted the fact that Porthos was probably being honest only now he wished that he hadn't said anything; he wanted to see if the Father Vincent files had been sent over and he wanted to call Anne Mauricia to talk about Marsac's trail.

“We'll see,” was the only assurance he could make. He hoped that Porthos wouldn't make a big-deal about it. If anything, Athos was far less obsessed with work these days than he had been a few years ago but he still couldn't shake the feeling of guilt whenever he took some time off. Speaking of guilt, Aramis looked exhausted. He had dark circles underneath his eyes and, from the looks of it, just blowing the coffee was taking a lot out of him.

“Are you okay?” Athos asked feeling concerned.

Aramis looked over his mug at him and afforded a small nod along with a weak smile. Athos didn't feel reassured.

“Yeah.”

“It's hard helping people sometimes,” Athos pointed out. “Especially when they're addicted to drugs. It's not easy. They have to want to sort themselves out, you can't make them.”

Aramis gave another little nod and stared down at his mug again. “I thought that maybe I could help someone, like you've both helped me. I was really pleased when he agreed to come back here with me. I thought it would be hard to talk him but it wasn't because he was hungry and tired. But then it got hard and he left.”

Whilst, on the one hand, Athos was suddenly very worried what Aramis had planned in his head because it rather sounded like Aramis thought that Alexei could live with them as well. But, on the other hand, he could tell that Aramis was in need of a little reassurance. So Athos reached out and gave Aramis' leg a squeeze because he knew Aramis responded well to someone being tactile. 

“It was very thoughtful of you but, you know what, perhaps you should just concentrate on making things better for yourself at the moment. It's still early days for you. Wait until you're in the right place in your life before finding all of the people that you used to know and trying to help them.”

“But it might be too late by then,” Aramis pointed out with a pained expression on his face.

Athos knew that Aramis had a point. Over his years in the police-force he had spent a lot of time dealing with the bodies of drug addicts and prostitutes. He knew the risks and he had seen the results but he didn't want Aramis to carry that burden on his shoulders. 

“Yes but there will always be other people you can help. Really, Aramis, don't let it worry you right now. You just keep going to see Ninon and work at the restaurant and, maybe one day, you could go and help addicts and sex workers but not yet.”

“Okay, Athos, if you think so.”

Athos hoped that he had managed to undo some of the damage which he had caused in the first place. Hopefully Aramis would listen to him and stay away from street corners for a while.

“I know it's hard, mate,” Porthos said, reaching out to tuck a stray curl behind Aramis' ear although it proved to be futile because the curl just fell back out again. “But Athos is right. It's hard to help others when you're still trying to figure things out for yourself. Just leave it for the time-being, aye?”

“But what if Alexei doesn't stop?” Aramis asked, pleading eyes were directed at Porthos.

Porthos shrugged. “I don't know, mate. Guess he won't be doing so good. Or he'll get himself in trouble.”

“Like go to jail?” Aramis asked.

Porthos shrugged. “Yeah maybe. If he does something desperate.”

“I don't want him to go to jail. It's not his fault, you know? He's not a bad person. He doesn't hurt other people.”

“Yeah I know,” Porthos put his spare arm around Aramis' shoulders and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Like you. You're a good person. Sometimes people just have to do things to survive.”

Aramis leaned over slightly, pressing his side up against Porthos. “But I did bad things didn't I? I stole stuff.”

“Aramis, you were a kid,” Porthos pointed out. “Not that kids shouldn't obey the law but you were a kid living on the streets. You had to do what you had to do to survive. No-one is going to think you're a bad person for doing that.”

Aramis didn't look very convinced as he took a sip of his drink. Porthos kissed the side of his head and then lifted up his mug to have some of his own coffee. Athos, however, was far less concerned with coffee all of a sudden and far more interested in the direction the conversation was heading. He could probe just a little more, it felt like the right moment.

“Aramis, why did you run away from home?”

“I...I told you before...”

“No, you just said that you didn't want to go to church anymore. That doesn't explain much at all. Who was making you go to church? Why didn't you like going to church?”

Aramis stared across at Athos for a while. Athos could see that Aramis looked uncomfortable, he wiggled himself a little closer to Porthos, attempting to shrinking underneath the larger man.

“My mother...my mother made me to go church. She said that we had to go to church because we had sin in us...darkness in us and going to church and confessing to the priest made us clean again.”

So, Aramis' mother was very religious, which made sense in Athos' head. Aramis had run away at fourteen so either he had been unable to tell his mother about the abuse and left, or he did tell her and she didn't believe him...or blamed him...whatever happened she obviously hadn't gone to the police or protected her son.

“But bad things happened at church?” Athos pushed. Aramis was opening up and Athos wanted to take full advantage; he needed to know the truth about what had happened to Aramis. 

“I was asked to be an altar boy which really pleased my mother. But then the Priest...well...well he...” 

Aramis' sentence trailed off. Athos knew that he had to ask, it really was now or never.

“Father Vincent?”

Aramis' eyes went wide in shock of the name which confirmed everything in Athos' mind; it was Father Vincent then. He almost didn't need the nod Aramis offered which confirmed it.

Porthos leaned across to put down his coffee down on the table beside the sofa-bed before he joined in with the conversation. “He made you do things?” 

“I don't want to talk about it,” Aramis abruptly stated and shifted to move. He slid out from underneath Porthos' arm and began to scurry off the bed.

“Aramis,” Athos called. “You can talk to us about it. It'll help you to tell someone, it'll make you feel better.”

“No it won't,” Aramis snapped and it wasn't long before he was on his feet, still holding onto his coffee. “I need to take Frodo for a walk.”

Athos sighed. He thought that Aramis was going to open up and tell them what had happened. Athos was desperate to know. Father Vincent was in jail but what if there had been others? Athos knew he could help, he could punish them and stop them from hurting other children, he knew he could, if only Aramis would tell them. “Aramis, please, tell us what happened.”

“No,” Aramis sounded stern as he carried his coffee towards the kitchen. “I don't want to talk about it anymore.”

Athos glanced over at Porthos who shrugged sadly. Aramis was usually very open about everything so the fact he was refusing to talk to them about it was a bad sign. Athos knew that he had to stop. Aramis had been through enough for one day and Athos, as frustrated as he now felt, didn't want to upset him any further.

“Don't worry,” he called after him. “I'm sorry, I'll stop with the questions now.”

“I'm going to take Frodo out,” Aramis said again after he reappeared without his mug.

Porthos moved to get off the bed. “I'll come with you. Then, afterwards, we can do whatever you like. Do you want to watch a movie? Or...I don't know...go to the movies?”

Athos watched Aramis freeze in his tracks. “Go to the movies?” he asked, sounding astonished.

“Yeah,” Porthos nodded. “I don't know what's on but I'm sure there will be something.”

“Actually go to the movies?” Aramis asked again, like he wanted to clarify what Porthos had just said.

“Yeah,” Porthos smiled. “Like go out and go and watch a movie on a big-screen with popcorn.”

“Wow really! Are you kidding me?” There was now a huge smile on Aramis' face and Porthos was chuckling.

“No I'm not kidding. Do you want to go?”

Aramis didn't hesitate. “Yes! I've not been for years. I can't believe we can to go to the movies tonight!”

And, like that, everything else appeared to be forgotten for Aramis except Athos couldn't forget. Whoever had hurt Aramis had to pay. They had taken advantage of a vulnerable child. They had made Aramis feel so terrified that he had believed living on the streets would be safer. They had put him into the path of older boys that had made him steal, grown men that used his body for their own satisfaction and Marsac...they had given him to Marsac. Athos wasn't going to stop until he knew that every single person involved was being punished for what they had done.

“Go,” he said, finally standing up himself. “I'll make us something quick to eat for when you get back.”

So Porthos and Aramis left to take the dog out and Athos immediately went to grab his mobile from his jacket pocket. First he called receptionist at work to see if the files had arrived from DI Roussel only they hadn't, not yet. He made a mental note to chase it up on Monday morning if they still hadn't appeared by then. Then he sat at the kitchen table and stared at his mobile for a good five minutes, building up the courage to do something that he really didn't want to do but he knew that he'd be silly not to at least give it a go. He was going to regret making the call though, he already knew that much.

He sat there and listened to it ring...once...twice...he felt sick already...three times...she wasn't there, he should hang up...

“What?” came the female voice on the other end of the line which sounded so abrupt it made Athos jump in his chair.

“Anne..” he said, once he had calmed down from the shock of hearing her voice. “...it's Athos.”

“I know, your name came up. Well I say your name you're actually called arsehole on my phone...”

“Anne,” Athos interrupted before he got into another argument with his ex-wife. He hadn't called to argue, he had called about Aramis. “Back when we worked together on the Marsac case, you said that the informant Aramis had been on the streets since he was fourteen and you suspected he ran away because of something to do with Father Vincent. Why did you say that?”

“And a good afternoon to you as well. I'm going okay, thanks for asking...”

“Anne!” Only Anne could annoy him so much in the space of five seconds. She had a real gift.

“Because it's my job, Athos,” she growled. “I get to know the sex-workers on the streets and in the brothels. I'm in vice, that's what I do.”

Athos sat back in the dining-room chair and tried to relax. Ninon had once taught him some breathing techniques, only he wasn't sure how to do those whilst he was talking on the phone. “But how did you know? I am aware that you arrested him a couple of times. Perhaps not you personally but vice....”

“God I don't even remember! Why is it important?”

“Because it is. Please try and remember. I'm looking into a historic child-abuse case.”

He wasn't being dishonest, that was exactly what he was doing but he didn't want to tell her anything more than he had to. She was silent for a moment which he hoped meant that she was at least trying to be helpful by casting her mind back.

“I think...that's right, once I discovered that Aramis was Marsac's little favourite I began asking around about him. I gathered some intel which is, you know, what good cops should do. I think someone told me where Aramis had grown up and someone else told that Aramis had been on the streets since he was kid after running away because of some pervert Priest. So I guess I put the two and two together. Right area, right age...I just assumed. I didn't know for sure, it was just a guess. You know Vincent is locked up already, right? Got life from what I remember, scum of the earth.”

“Yeah I know. I've just been...” Should he tell her? Would she be-able to help? He paused as he hesitated. He didn't trust her on most things but talking to someone in vice might help. She was right, she knew more about street workers than he did. He decided it was worth a try. All cops hated child abusers, that was usually a given. “I've been wondering if someone else was involved in the abuse. Someone else that got away with it.”

“Another Priest?”

Athos hadn't even gotten as far as thinking of suspects. “No, I don't know. I've just got his hunch, you know? Something Aramis said umm...back when he was helping us before. It got me thinking.”

“Oh I see” That was a first. No smart come-back, no nasty comment. “If I can help...just ask. You spoken to Vincent?”

“Why would I...” Athos couldn't bare the thought of talking to that man. If he ever came into contact with him he was fairly certain that his actions wouldn't be very lawful.

“Well I don't know, maybe he'll be remorseful. Maybe he'll confess. He is a fucking Priest after all.”

“I...” Athos didn't really know what to think about that suggestion.

“Anyway, gotta go. I'll probably see you again soon if Marsac's case continues to go to shit, well done on that by the way.”

Athos rolled his eyes, he should have known that one was coming. “You heard?”

“The pretty lawyer came by. Roche has run away, huh? Good job.”

“It's not...” He didn't feel like having an argument with Anne and he certainly didn't have the energy to defend himself. “Goodbye, Anne. Thanks for your help.”

He hung up on her, like he always did because he knew that it really annoyed her. 

He sat there then, mulling the conversation over. She hadn't said anything which he didn't already know. Aramis' nod had already confirmed Vincent's involvement in his past. But how would he get Aramis to open up about it? Perhaps Ninon could help. But, even if she could get Aramis talking about it, Athos knew that she had a code and that code meant she wouldn't be-able to pass the information onto him. Athos was beginning to feel frustrated and, in the meantime, they still had Marsac and his trial to sort out and a pile of unsolved crimes which Treville wanted them to work on. 

Athos was beginning to feel somewhat defeated which had the knock-on effect of making him feel anxious. So he went into the hallway to check that the shoes were all lined up properly, which they were, they were all in pairs and perfectly straight. He came back into the living-room but the shoes still bothered him so he went out into the hallway to check the shoes once again. They hadn't moved, they were still where had been just a second before.

“Stop it,” he whispered to himself before heading towards the kitchen to make food only he got distracted by the bookcase first and then he suddenly had to make sure that all of the books were in alphabetical order.

The evening at the cinema was fun. Or watching Aramis' happy was fun. Athos thought it was a wonder that the man managed to stay in his seat with the amount of excited wiggling which was going on. 

The rest of the weekend, however, dragged on for Athos. He was more than content leaving Porthos and Aramis to talk to the lettings agent and go out looking at houses whilst he stayed at home working and he was being reasonably productive without any distractions. He left a message on Anne Mauricia's phone although, being the weekend, he suspected that she wouldn't get back to him until Monday. He put the sketches of the assault suspects onto the police 'watch' system although the victim had been very vague so Athos wasn't sure that the pictures would really get them anywhere; he planned to talk to the some of the uniformed cops when he got back into the station to see if they had any hunches about likely suspects. Apart from that he spent the weekend reading through the court files of the Father Vincent case until he had finally read everything. Frustratingly nothing in the files helped him discover anything more than he already knew. The younger boys, it appeared, were abused by Father Vincent alone. Athos really did need to search the extra notes which DI Roussel was meant to be sending over.

He looked up when the other two returned from their third house-hunting outing of the weekend with sounds of raucous excitement.

“We found the best place, Athos!” Aramis announced, not even removing his boots as he came tearing into the living-room. Athos was very concerned about the fact he had just brought in germs from outside and couldn't stop staring at the boots whilst Aramis rambled on about some place they'd found which was close to a parks and had a huge bathroom and a fireplace and a piano and a balcony full of plants.

Athos, however, was very distracted by the boots.

“Can you take your...” he nodded in the direct of Aramis' feet which caused Aramis to look down.

“Oh,” he said and then ran back out into the hallway again. Porthos then appeared from the hallway, shoe-less and chuckling. 

“He's a little bit excited about it. It's really nice and we can take Frodo with us.”

Frodo...joy of joys. Athos turned his attention back to the computer-screen trying to make sure that he had closed down everything about Father Vincent before Aramis came too close.

“At least pretend to be interested, love,” Porthos said and Athos knew he couldn't explain what he had been doing with Aramis around so just closed his laptop and smiled at Porthos.

“I am. Sorry...a piano?”

“Yeah,” Porthos shrugged as he came over and pulled back a chair at the table to sit down. “Now one of us has got to learn to play it.”

He winked at Athos as Aramis came back now minus the boots.

“And the bedrooms are big, aren't they, Porthos? The man said that it was normal for apartments around that area to have large bedrooms but I was surprised at just how large they were. The kitchen is kinda small, it's sort of with the living-room, a bit like here. But the kitchen is smaller than here but it's...it's...what's that word, Porthos?”

“Newly furbished,” Porthos helped out. “In fact it's very white and very clean. You'd like it.”

Athos nodded as Aramis joined them, stroking Frodo on the head as he sat down. “Yeah very clean. It's wooden floors so easy to keep clean as well. And the bathroom, you'd love it. The shower is huge! You could fit a car in it!”

“Eh...” Porthos chuckled. “Maybe not quite, but it was big and it had one of those large rain-head shower things. You'd like that as well.”

“Then I take it this is the one we're going for?” Athos asked.

“Yeah,” Porthos looked somewhat sheepish. “We may have already told the lettings agent we want it. He's going to call the owner in the morning. Is that alright?”

Athos didn't mind at all. Athos was pleased that they had found somewhere they both liked. The thought of packing and moving was somewhat horrendous but Athos was quite certain that you could pay people to pack and move for you these days...if his OCD would allow it.

The next morning Athos headed into the police station bright and early, leaving Porthos back home with Aramis to dream about moving house. He had been hoping that the extra Father Vincent files would be ready and waiting for him but nothing had arrived by the time he got to his desk, then again it was seven in the morning. Whilst he waited for the files he took the sketch artist drawings of the assault suspects around the building, chatting to any of the uniformed officers he came across and showing them the pictures. There were a couple of possible suggestions of well-known local characters but nothing to cause Athos to be hopeful. 

Feeling a little defeated, Athos went back upstairs and popped into the bathroom to wash his hands. He needed to get hold of the lawyer and he needed to chase up the files if they didn't arrive and he needed to talk to Ninon about Aramis and...god he'd completely forgotten to call his mother. Feeling stressed-out about everything he had on his plate he began to wash his hands desperately. The door opened after the third wash and d'Artagnan came in. When he noticed Athos at the sinks he immediately smiled.

“Hey, Athos! Not seen you in a while.”

“Yes, sorry.” Athos felt bad. He was meant to be supervising d'Artagnan and Constance and he was doing quite a terrible job for it. He watched d'Artagnan walk over to the urinals then averted his gaze back to his own hands. “How is work, d'Artagnan?” He made a point of saying work because he was quite sure that he didn't want a conversation about d'Artagnan's sex life again.

“Yeah, good. Constance and I worked most of the weekend. We're helping vice again. We're trying to track down a couple of kids they've seen living on the streets. Treville said you and Porthos were busy working on other stuff.”

“Yes, indeed we are.” Kids on the streets? Like Aramis had been once. Athos hoped that his colleagues would be-able to find the children in time and keep them safe. In the meantime Athos continued to wash his hands as d'Artagnan came over to the sinks to join him.

“Anything I can help with?” D'Artagnan kindly offered.

“No, not really,” Athos admitted with a bit of a sigh. “The Marsac case is ongoing. Have you heard that Phillipe Roche disappeared?”

“Yeah, the Captain told us. Want us to see if we can find him? I bet he's in New York, he talked his family all being there...”

“No, don't bother, the lawyer has someone on it. Anyway, so we're trying to sort out that mess and, also, there's a historical child abuse case and we're also working on an unsolved assault case. So yes, quite busy.”

D'Artagnan nodded and Athos watched him. The lad didn't seem quite appeared to be his usual bouncy self and, despite not initially wanting to to get into the whole mess of d'Artagnan's personal life again, he now rather felt obligated to make sure everything was okay.

“How are things with Constance?”

D'Artagnan went over to the paper-towels to dry his hands. Athos was only on his fourth wash so he had to keep going.

“Oh we...we just haven't mentioned it, you know? The thing. What happened. Yeah we haven't mentioned it.”

Athos had to resist rolling his eyes. How was that going to work? Talk about there being an elephant in the room. “Well...if you think that's how you should handle things.”

“Is it difficult working with Porthos and being in a relationship with him?” d'Artagnan suddenly asked as he continued to linger.

“Umm...not really. I happen to think it works well. I know him better than I know anyone else and our working styles compliment each other. It does make things a little blurry when it comes to home-life and work-life being two separate things, I suppose that can be a problem sometimes.”

D'Artagnan appeared to nod thoughtfully. “But...you're not like...it doesn't make things difficult being around each other all of the time?”

Athos shrugged. “No. I think he likes it that way. I suspect he worries that he'd never see me if we didn't work together...which isn't true but I can see his point.”

“Yeah that's true...yeah that's true actually.” D'Artagnan seemed to ponder for a moment before eventually smiling. “Oh, there's a big parcel for you which just arrived. I put it beside your desk.”

Parcel...from DI Roussel. Athos hysterically washed his hands one final time, frantically needing them to get clean quickly. Then he dried his hands and raced back out into the office where he grabbed the brown box and put it onto his desk. He tore off the parcel tape, cleaned up the mess he had just made, then opening the lid of the box. Inside where lots of notebooks and files. He smiled; this was what he had been waiting for. He began to pull everything out until he had three neat piles on his desk. 

He picked up the first notebook. DI Roussel was a very thorough man, which Athos admired. He had written down everything in great detail. Unfortunately he was also a very un-organised man and Athos couldn't make sense of his filing system. He suspected that there wasn't one and everything had just been thrown into the box randomly.

“Hey...can we...can we talk?”

Athos looked up at his boyfriend who was standing beside the desk. He hadn't realised that Porthos had come in. 

“Yes,” Athos said and then turned his attention back to flicking through the pages of the notebook. 

“Umm somewhere private?”

Athos didn't bother to look up again. “In a minute. Roussel sent his old files over of the Father Vincent case.”

The piece of news seemed to distract Porthos momentarily. “Oh! Wait, didn't you already have that?”

“No,” Athos pointed out. “I had the court files. This...this is everything. He said that he met a teenager before the trail went to court who had been abused by Vincent but implied that other men had been involved in the abuse. Only the young man in question was on drugs and changed his mind about testifying and Roussel never knew what happened to him after that. I need to discover if he wrote down any details of the interaction. Can you help me look?”

Porthos grabbed a couple of notebooks and took them over to his desk opposite. “Course I will, but then I need to talk to you.”

Porthos sat down and they both read through the notebooks. The pages were full of names, dates, thoughts, facts, snippets of information and just about everything else. Athos understood why they had managed to convict Father Vincent, the investigation had been done in a very meticulous manner. It was just unfortunate that they had two years worth of notes to go through and Athos didn't have a clue at what stage they had interviewed the teenager. 

They both continued to sit in silence for a while longer until Porthos finally had some good news.

“Think I might have found it,” he said, removing himself from his slouching position he sat up in his chair. “January 4th. Follow-up of phone-call by Salvation Army officer Celine...blah, blah. Here we go...white male, late teens, light brown hair and light eyes...” 

Athos breathed a sigh of relief. Aramis would have been fifteen or sixteen at that time and Athos suspected that he had probably looked younger. Also Aramis had dark hair and dark eyes...it wasn't Aramis. 

“...was there. Celine left and we spoke to the young man in private. He looked nervous when I pulled out my notebook so I put it away again. He was unsure about giving a statement but he spoke of the abuse that he had suffered by Father Vincent...” Porthos paused. “Goes into some detail...not gonna read that bit...hold on...” Athos waited patiently for Porthos to continue. “...stated that Father Vincent on two occasions took him to a place where two other men were there. Identity of abusers unclear and no more details given. Leroux suggested that he come by the station and give an official statement. He took her card. Appeared to be on narcotics of some kind, eyes glazed, hands shaking. Left abruptly. Spoke to Celine who told us that he fell out with his parents so has ended up on the streets.”

Athos waited for more but nothing came.

“That's it,” Porthos explained. “Nothing else.”

“Not even a name?” Athos asked. “Surely this Salvation Army person knew his name?”

Porthos shrugged but then flicked the page over. “Oh yeah, hold on, more on the back. Says his name is...fuck...” 

Athos witnessed Porthos' expression turning to shock. “What?”

“Fuck...nooo, can't be...”

“Can't be what?” Athos asked, leaning forward in chair. No, it wasn't Aramis, it couldn't be Aramis. Aramis would have been younger and the description didn't fit. “Roussel said he was called something like Mathis.”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

“What?!” Athos yelled, getting desperate to find out what Porthos had read.

“You're not going to believe this.”

Porthos threw the notebook across the desks and it landed just short of Athos who quickly turned it around to read it for himself...Marsac Leveque...Marsac.


	35. The Questions

“This doesn't change anything,” Porthos quickly said, his finger banging down on the table as if it would enforce his point. “Nothing.”

“I know,” Athos agreed but his eyes hadn't left the name scribbled down on the piece of paper. Eventually he sighed and sat back, the chair bobbed back and forth as he looked over at Porthos who was understandably addled by the discovery. 

“I mean it's sad,” Porthos added, seemingly expressing his thoughts out loud. “It is sad, I'll give you that. If this is all true then it's horrible but he made the choices he made as an adult. No-one made him become a pimp, no-one made him get into the drugs business and no-one made him try to kill Aramis. He tried to kill Aramis, Athos, we need to remember that. If we hadn't turned up...”

“I haven't forgotten,” Athos pointed out, sounding far more calm about it than he suspected Porthos was. The news was a shock, certainly, he hadn't been expecting the teenager to have been Marsac but Marsac came from somewhere, everyone had a background. And did it change things? Not really. Did it explain things? Perhaps. There was one thing which bugged Athos about it immediately though.

“Did Aramis ever imply that he knew Marsac before he ran away?” he asked, trying to cast his mind back to the conversations they'd had with Aramis about his former pimp. 

“No,” Porthos confessed. “I think they met whilst Aramis was living on the streets but you know what Aramis is like, he doesn't tell you things unless you ask him. Remember all that business with Gilles?”

Athos nodded, he did remember the way Aramis hadn't told them he knew Gilles because they hadn't asked him.

“We need to talk to Aramis.”

Porthos frowned. “He didn't want to talk about Vincent. He made that very clear.”

“But he'll talk about Marsac,” Athos pointed out. “We need to put the puzzle pieces together, Porthos. Is he home?”

“Yeah he is. He has a shift at the restaurant at five. But there's...I still need to talk to you about something.”

“Go ahead,” Athos encouraged but Porthos glanced around the office awkwardly.

“No, in private,” he whispered.

Athos nodded. He had no-idea what Porthos wanted to talk about it obviously something was bothering him which made Athos curious. “Bathroom?” he suggested; he appeared to have a lot of important meetings in the men's bathroom.

They both got up and disappeared into the bathroom where Porthos pushed open the doors of the cubicles just to make sure that they were alone. Athos patiently waited with his hands on his hips.

“I umm...” Porthos began once he had finished his checking. He appeared to be unable to look at Athos which Athos took as a bad sign but he managed to remain quiet to wait for whatever was to come. He had begun to wonder if it was something to do with the house but Porthos' nervous behaviour was telling him it was something more serious. “...after you went to work I went downstairs to have a cuddle with Aramis. He was all sleepy and cute and...well...we got a little carried away. I'm really sorry.” His eyes were now looking straight at Athos as if he was searching for a reaction. “...I know we have a bit of an unwritten rule about not doing anything with him unless we're both there and I feel really bad about it. So I wanted to tell you straight away and be honest with you.”

Athos took a moment to let Porthos' confession sink in and found himself not feeling upset or angry in the slightest. There was just something he needed to know. “What did you both do?”

“Oh nothing more than we've done with him already. Just kisses and...hands,” Porthos bit down onto his bottom lip for a second then began to stare at the floor once again. “...I really am sorry. I feel like we've betrayed you or something.”

“Betrayed me?” Athos was astonished that Porthos would think that. “Porthos..” Athos lowered his hands from his hips. “...you and I have sex without him all of the time. If we want things to be equal, if we want this relationship to become the three of us instead of just the two of us, then we do need to put everything on an equal playing-field.”

“I have no-idea what you're talking about but...you're not mad?” 

“No,” Athos said with honesty. He knew that Aramis and Porthos were close; Porthos had a natural way with Aramis that Athos hadn't quite mastered yet. He was envious of it for sure, but angry? Not in the slightest. He closed the distance between himself and Porthos and placed his hands on Porthos' arms. “I'm a little jealous I missed out but not mad. It's my fault for getting up at some God-forsaken hour and leaving you two lazy-bones back in the house.”

“It's not your fault,” Porthos immediately protested. “We got carried away. We shouldn't have done it.”

“Stop, it's fine, it's fine.” Porthos meant everything to Athos and the last thing he wanted was for Porthos to feeling bad about anything. “I think, as long as we're all honest with each other and we can all express if we're feeling left-out or whatever else, it's fine if two people do their own thing without the other once in a while. Let's talk to Ninon about it the next time we all see her.”

Porthos immediately rolled his eyes which made Athos take his hands away. “You still don't like Ninon?” he asked, feeling disappointed that their session with her hadn't changed Porthos' opinion.

Porthos shrugged. “No, she's fine. Actually she's alright. I just don't think that Ninon is the answer to all of our emotional needs like you seem to. But I know that you sometimes need a bit more help in that department.”

Athos would have taken offence except Porthos was right. 

“We should check in with Treville before we leave,” Athos suggested to change subject away from his lack of emotional intelligence. “He's going to start thinking that we're working for someone else.”

Treville was indeed pleased to see them in his usual stoic, sarcastic way.

“So you are alive then. I had heard rumours.”

Athos and Porthos both stood in front of his desk with their hands clasped in front of their manhood's in some sort of protective manner.

“Yes, Captain, sorry. We've been busy working just not necessarily in the office.”

“It's alright. Out of everyone in this department you two are the ones I can always trust are actually working. Any progress?”

“Not on the unsolved assault,” Athos admitted, feeling ashamed about it because they were letting the victim down. “The descriptions the victim gave were vague to say the least and I've had a couple of random suggestions after showing the sketches around today but nothing very helpful. Unfortunately we may have to wait to see if the same men assault another stranger.”

Treville nodded. “Well, you tried. Leaving some cases unsolved is an unfortunate part of police-work. How about the other cases you're working on?”

Athos glanced at Porthos to see if Porthos was going to speak but Porthos appeared content to let Athos do the talking. 

“There has been a...development this morning which links the two cases together.”

“Go on.”

“It appears that Marsac himself may have been a victim of Father Vincent and other, so far unknown, men. We found his name amongst DI Rousell's files.”

Treville raised an eyebrow up at them. “And where does this new information lead you?”

“I don't know,” Athos admitted. “I can't interview Marsac, not when I'll be testifying at his trail in a few weeks. I doubt he'd tell us anything anyway. Aramis is proving to be...sensitive and uncooperative although we haven't exactly pushed him hard. I had a recent suggestion to go and speak to Father Vincent himself but it's not one which I've thought about seriously yet...”

“That's a good idea,” Treville said immediately which surprised Athos.

“But...why would he give the names up of the other abusers after all this time?”

“Why not?” Treville asked. “What has he got to lose? Maybe he'll be bitter because they got away with it when he didn't. Maybe he'll want to clear his conscious. Maybe he'll tell you nothing at all and deny everything but it's worth a try.”

Athos glanced across at Porthos again. Porthos was pushing his lips together in a way that he did when he was beginning to feel angry but was holding himself back. Athos suspected that it was the thought of meeting the man who had abused Aramis as a child which was making Porthos look so furious. 

“I'll...consider it,” Athos said, turning back to Treville. “There is the chance that he'll warn his fellow abusers that they're under investigation.”

“Good,” Treville pointed out. “Outgoing communication from prisons is always monitored. So, if he tries, we'll see it.”

Athos hadn't thought of that and appreciated Treville's thoughts on the matter. “Alright, maybe I will then.” He could also go with Constance or d'Artagnan if Porthos couldn't face it, whilst they both liked Aramis their level of attachment wasn't quite the same.

“Captain,” Porthos finally spoke. “You should also know that we're also planning to move house at some point soon so we may need some personal time.”

“Is something wrong with your house?”

“No, we just want a bigger place.”

Treville eyed them both with some suspicion but somehow managed to bite his tongue from saying what he probably wanted to. “Take what you need. Just tell me when you have more capacity again.”

Athos and Porthos both promised that they would and then left to get into the car and head back home.

“How are we going to handle this?” Porthos asked as he drove. Athos had a feeling that Aramis' reactions were going to dictate how it would be handled. They had, so far, not been entirely successful in getting him to open up.

“I don't know but he cares so much about other people so maybe, if we can just get him to understand that children might still be getting hurt, he'll want to help.”

“You're not gonna bring up Marsac's trail though, are you?”

“I'll have to at some stage,” Athos pointed out.

“Yeah but...maybe not yet.”

Athos didn't want to argue with Porthos about it again and judging by the 'yet' Porthos had obviously come to accept the fact that the conversation was inevitable. 

When they got back to the house Aramis wasn't at home but then neither was Frodo so Athos didn't worry. Watching the way that Frodo had barked at Alexei, there was a small part of Athos that was beginning to like the fact the dog was around looking after Aramis. Not that he'd ever admit that out loud.

They both sat and made some lunch until the front-door finally opened and a dog came rushing in. Porthos sat up from the kitchen-table and walked out into the living-room waiting. Aramis eventually appeared, shoeless and smiling when he saw them.

“You're back early. I just went to the library with Frodo and I got a new book this time because I've got my own library card now!”

“That's good, mate,” Porthos said and immediately went over to seek an embrace which Athos suspected was a 'I'm sorry I'm about to upset you' comfort hug from Porthos. But Aramis, always loving physical contact and not needing to know the reason, grinned and squeezed Porthos back around the waist.

“Has something happened?” Aramis asked once they did pull apart, obviously more perceptive than Athos gave him credit for.

“Sort of,” Athos admitted. “Come and sit down for a moment.”

Aramis looked worried as he came over but he sat down compliantly and Porthos sat next to him, tugging his chair close to Aramis.

“Is it about this morning?” he asked, his voice now a whisper. 

“No,” Athos said immediately to reassure Aramis on that. “Not about that at all. No, this is something else. Aramis, Porthos and I are investigating something at the moment and Marsac's name came up and so we were both wondering...did you know him before you ran away and lived on the streets?”

Aramis paused as it obviously wasn't the question he had been expecting but it didn't take him long to answer. 

“No, I didn't know him.”

“Not at all?” Porthos queried.

“No. I mean I knew who he was because he went to my school but he was older than me so we never spoke.”

Athos had been wondering if Aramis knew Marsac from church but school, that hadn't occurred to him before but, if they had been brought up in the same area, of course there was a good chance they would have gone to the same school.

“Did you know his family?”

Aramis shook his head from side to side. “No. I only really knew about him at school because him and his friends were always in trouble. I mean nothing bad, they weren't bad, but they pulled pranks and they were always getting into trouble.” Aramis was grinning and even chuckled a little at some memory before he continued. “But we really never spoke. The big kids tended to ignore the younger ones unless they were beating them up for lunch money. Why?”

Athos wasn't ready to answer the why question yet so he decided to push a little more. “Did you go to the same church?”

“No, he didn't go to church.”

That didn't make sense. How would Marsac knew Father Vincent if he didn't go to church? He was still busy trying to figure it out in his head when, much to his surprise, Porthos just came out with it and asked.

“Would he have met Father Vincent?”

Aramis thought about it for a moment, briefly looking up at the ceiling. “Umm I don't know. Yeah, probably. Father Vincent did lots of stuff around the community. He worked with boys who were going down the wrong path, he ran this programme...” Then, suddenly, Aramis' expression changed and he frowned at Porthos. “...I don't want to talk about Father Vincent.”

“No, that's fine,” Athos quickly intervened. Aramis was being helpful and he didn't want him to suddenly shut them out. “We'll just talk about Marsac.”

Aramis' frown didn't lighten. “Why are you asking me about Marsac?” 

“Like I said, his name has come up with something we're investigating...about children getting hurt. We think he might have been hurt when he was younger. Did he ever talk to you about that?”

Aramis shook his head and said nothing else. 

“Really?” Porthos asked, raising his eyebrow. He reached out and pulled apart Aramis' hands which Athos assumed he had clasped together underneath the table. Porthos held onto one of Aramis' hand to offered a bit of reassurance.

“No, he never told me anything really about his past.”

“Did you tell him yours?” Athos queried and Aramis stared down at the table, clearly thinking about it.

“I might have done.” Aramis lifted his head again. “When we first met. I don't remember, I'm sorry. I don't understand why you want to know all this.”

Aramis was beginning to look upset, his eyes were welling up and Athos felt bad for making Aramis think back and remember but he knew they had in order to find out who had hurt him as a child.

“Aramis,” Athos began. He knew that he was just going to have to say tell him because skirting around the issue forever wasn't going to get them anywhere. “...we think that Marsac was abused by Father Vincent and by other men; like you. And we want to arrest those men that hurt you and Marsac and stop them from hurting other children. But, in order to do that, we need your help. Do you understand that? We can't find these men unless you tell us about them.”

Aramis blinked and it let the tears escape. Athos watched one roll towards his nose. “I don't want to talk about it. Why won't you listen to me?”

“Because I know you can do it. I know that you can be brave and I know how much you want to help other people. Aramis, those men could still be out there, still hurting other little boys. Do you want them to be doing that? Maybe we can stop them. We just need an idea of where to start looking.”

Tugging his hand away from Porthos' grip, Aramis used the sleeves of his jumper to wipe at his cheeks.

“I don't even...I don't even remember much about them. I can't remember much.”

“That's okay, just try. Just try and think back. Where did you meet them? What did they look like? We can start from there.”

There was a silence for a while apart from Aramis' sniffs and Athos had a faint hope that maybe they were getting somewhere. Aramis was obviously trying to remember. Athos was just getting hopeful that Aramis was about to give them some information when suddenly Aramis pushed his chair back which screeched against the kitchen-floor and stood up.

“I'm sorry. I just can't...”

He turned and began to walk away. No, no, Athos panicked, if was about to happen, Aramis was about to open up.

“Aramis, please, we really need your help on this!” he called after Aramis whilst receiving a very sad look from Porthos who was beginning to stand up himself.

“Athos, leave it.”

Athos was about to but only because Aramis was walking off. Only he didn't go far, he crawled onto the sofa-bed and appeared to lie-down.

“Aramis!” Athos stood and called across the room. “We have to stop these men. You need to help us!”

“Athos!” Porthos snapped. “Enough.” 

Porthos left Athos to go over to the sofa-bed and sit down onto it. He appeared to hesitate for a moment before reaching out and rubbing Aramis' back and Athos did stop although he felt extraordinary frustrated about having to do so. 

Athos stood there for a while, more and more dissatisfied as the silence between them all lingered. Then he couldn't stand it anymore and he got up from the table. He walked through the living-room where Porthos was still rubbing Aramis' back and went upstairs. He didn't mean to slam the bedroom door, he really didn't, but he tugged the handle a little too hard and it slammed anyway. He knew that it probably sounded like he was having a tantrum and he knew that his behaviour wasn't helping but his mind was on those men. His mind was on justice for Aramis and stopping them from hurting anyone else. He had to stop them, he just had to.

But he couldn't do it without Aramis and, upon realising as much, he sat himself down on the bed and sighed. He shouldn't have walked off like that. He was asking Aramis to remember being abused as a child, of course it was going to be painful and difficult; he should have been more patient. He began to feel really terrible which, in turn, caused his anxiety levels to rise. What if Aramis hated him now? What if Porthos was really angry?

The bedroom door opening pulled him out of his anxious thoughts and Porthos came in looking less than impressed.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he whispered harshly as he closed the door far more quietly than Athos had managed to. Athos looked up at him apologetically but wasn't able to say anything. What could he say? He knew that he had been less than patient with Aramis.

“You've had training in this stuff,” Porthos pointed out, still standing by the door. “That is not how you deal with victims of childhood abuse, you know that.”

Porthos sounded angry and Athos still didn't know what to say, until something occurred to him which might help.

“I'm sorry.”

Porthos appeared to tut. “It's not me you need to be saying that to, it's him.” But then Porthos sighed and his body language softened. He came over to the bed and perched himself down on it beside Athos. “I know once you've got a bee in your bonnet about something you can't let it go but this is Aramis, our Aramis. God knows what happened to him when he was a kid but it obviously hurts him to think about it. We need to be patient with him, gentle. We need to hold his hand and guide him through it as his pace, not try to force it out of him like you just tried to.”

“Those men could still be out there, Porthos,” Athos pointed out rather needlessly. “And, every single day we let them stay out there, other children could be getting hurt.”

“I know that but, for gods sake, isn't it better we get them in a few months than not at all? If you push him, he'll never open up. If we're patient with him, he just might.”

Porthos was right and Athos knew it. Porthos had always been better at dealing with people and Athos knew that he should listen to his words and advice. Athos lowered his head, still feeling rather ashamed. 

“I'll go and apologise to him,” he offered.

“Good idea,” Porthos nodded.

Athos realised that he had been apologising a lot lately and was grateful for the way that his apologies were usually well received. He knew that should have just stopped when Aramis had stood up and made it very clear that he didn't want to talk about it anymore. He shouldn't have pushed and he shouldn't have shouted. When Athos got downstairs Aramis was still lying on his stomach on the bed, his arm dangling over the side stroking Frodo who was standing there enjoying the attention and perhaps sensing the sadness of his owner. Aramis' brown eyes looked up when Athos came back down the stairs with Porthos lingering behind.

“Aramis,” Athos began as he walked over slowly. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. You're right, I wasn't listening to you. I'm very sorry.”

He stopped when he got closer to the bed, not wanting to invade Aramis' space any further unless he was given permission.

“It's okay,” came the subdued response but then a small smile grew on Aramis' face. Aramis pushed himself up until he was kneeling and opened up his arms. Athos took the cue and went over, he sat down onto the bed and leaning forward to hug Aramis. They both squeezed each other, neither wanting to let go. Aramis felt warm and delightful. When their arms began to drop Aramis stared into Athos' eyes before leaning forward and kissing him. Athos was rather taken back from the kiss but didn't pull away, he kissed Athos back, lips soft against the ones rubbing up against them. Aramis appeared to move forward, his hands on Athos' thighs which soon began to explore. Athos pulled back from the kiss and panted breathlessly.

“No, come on, not now.”

“Why not?” Aramis asked.

“Because you're upset,” Athos pointed out. “Do you want to...just hold each other?”

The suggestion appeared to delight Aramis who immediately shifted on the bed to give Athos room to climb onto it so Athos did just that. There he sat himself back against the pillows and immediately had an Aramis in his arms. Aramis curled up against him and appeared to relish in the embrace. Athos wrapped his arms firmly around Aramis and glanced over at Porthos who was smiling because Porthos was happy when everyone was getting along.

Athos wasn't sure how long he was on the bed for but at some point he must have dozed off because woke up with a dead -leg and something in his pocket vibrating. Once he had some vague understanding of who he was and where he was, he reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, trying not to dislodge a sleeping Aramis at the same time. 

“Hello?” Athos' voice croaked.

“Detective, it's Anne. I got your message and I'm sorry I haven't be-able to call back until now, I've been in court for most of the day. Is this a good time to talk?”

Anne...the lawyer....damn. Athos glanced down at the curls on his chest and attempted to move.

“Yes, hold on a moment.”

Whilst he hated having to move Aramis he really needed to take the call. He attempted to slowly pull his leg out from beneath the sleeping man but it woke Aramis up. Aramis lifted his head drowsily and blinked at Athos confused.

“Sorry, phone-call,” Athos explained in a whisper and eventually managed to get out leaving Aramis to rub his eyes and then flop back onto the bed. Athos wasn't sure where Porthos was but he headed upstairs, which was a difficult task with a numb leg, and eventually headed into the bedroom. Porthos wasn't there either so he closed the door and pulled the phone back to his ear.

“Sorry about that. I can talk now. Any luck finding Phillipe Roche?”

“No,” Anne responded honestly. “I'm afraid not. He must have left the country. How about you? Have you had any luck with anything?”

“Hmm no,” Athos confessed. “We did meet a prostitute that was given drugs instead of money as payment for working in one of the brothels but it wasn't Marsac who brought the drugs, it was Gilles Charlet and there's not a chance Gilles will admit that Marsac was buying and selling the drugs.”

“Maybe it's not worth continuing to knock on that door then. Let's concentrate on the brothels and I'll try to push for the attempted murder. Have you managed to talk to Aramis? Will he testify?”

“I'm working on it,” Athos admitted.

“I can meet him if you like? I can talk him through the process. We can do interview questions and prepare him for what might happen.” 

“I haven't even got to the stage of getting him to agree to do it yet.”

There was silence on the other end. Athos knew that she must be disappointed. “Athos, we're running out of time.”

Athos was distracted for a moment by the sound of someone coming upstairs. He wondered if Aramis was going to come into the bedroom for a moment but then he heard the noise of the bathroom door closing.

“I know,” Athos understood that she was probably getting stressed. “I'll talk to him, I promise. I want to get him as much time locked up as you do, believe me.” Even more so, Athos thought privately. “I'll sort it out this week.”

“Alright.” 

Athos could hear her sigh and sympathised; everything should be ready by now, it should all be sorted, all of the evidence should be prepared and ready to be delivered. He knew they were giving her grey hairs and felt bad for it.

“I promise.”

“Okay. Perhaps we could meet for lunch again towards the end of the week and catch-up?”

Lunch? It seemed like an odd idea but Athos wanted to help as much as possible so he agreed. When he hung up he heard the shower go on which made Athos glanced at the clock. He was slightly confused as to why Aramis was having a shower at 4'o'clock in the afternoon before remembering that Aramis would be going to work soon so he was probably freshening himself up. Athos grabbed his laptop and sat on the bed as he listened to the power-shower in the room next-door. He felt guilty for having slept during the afternoon when he was meant to be working so he decided to make up for it doing a bit of research. He allowed himself to briefly wondered if their new place would have room for a desk so he wouldn't find himself having to work on a bed or at the kitchen-table in future. 

At some point there was a knock at the door. He wasn't sure if Porthos had returned or if Aramis was out of the shower.

“Athos?” a voice called, it was Aramis.

“Yes?”

“Can I come in? Porthos put my work clothes in his wardrobe.”

“Of course.”

The door opened and Aramis appeared, standing there dripping wet with a towel lingering low around his waist. He looked, quite frankly, gorgeous and Athos was quite fixated with the sight in front of him.

“Sorry,” Aramis said with an embarrassed smile and came into the room. He opened up the wardrobe where Porthos kept his clothes; they had decided soon after moving in that, because of Athos' OCD, it was just easier to have separate wardrobes. Aramis continued to stare, fascinated by the curves of Aramis' arse-cheeks which were peaking out from the top of the towel. He was secretly hoping that the towel would slip down even further but it somehow defied the law of gravity and remained in place. When Aramis turned back around Athos found himself now staring at hip-bones and a light smattering of hair over Aramis' stomach. It took him a while to realise that Aramis was just standing there. Athos' gaze moved up to discover that Aramis was grinning with amusement which caused Athos to blush.

“Sorry I...I...sorry.”

Aramis chuckled, “You don't have to apologise.”

Aramis bit onto his bottom lip coyly and began to walk closer to the bed. Athos had a feeling that he was about to be seduced.

“Aramis,” he warned with a fond smile. “You've just had a shower and you need to got to work. Don't get any ideas now.”

“We can be quick,” Aramis pointed out and climbed onto the mattress. The next thing Athos knew his laptop was being pushed to one side and it was being replaced by Aramis straddling his lap. Aramis was clearly no longer upset because he had an easy smile on his face and appeared to be thoroughly enjoying being wanted and admired. 

Athos wasn't sure where to put his hands. Now that Aramis was on his lap the towel was teasing him even more, hardly hiding anything at all in a way which was almost scandalous. Aramis had his fingers gently stroking the back of Athos' neck and was starting at Athos quite intensely.

“Sometimes I feel like I'm dreaming.” 

“You do?” Athos asked the man on his lap curiously. 

“Yeah...I worry that I'll wake up and none of this will be real. I'll be back to...”

“Hey,” Athos interrupted. He knew that Aramis was about to say and he didn't want to hear it. “This isn't a dream. You're here, with us, just where you should be.”

Aramis' eyes lit up. “And I want to stay with you forever.”

And I promise I'll make that happen, Athos assured Aramis silently and he obviously didn't need to say it out loud before Aramis quickly closed the space between them and kissed him.

“I pop out to do some food shopping and you both start without me.” A chuckle came from the doorway. Athos reluctantly pulled away from the kiss to peer over Aramis' shoulder and spot Porthos standing there with a raised eyebrow and a smile on his face.

“You have good timing, we just got started,” Athos smiled back.


	36. The Cuddles

“I should bloody hope so too,” was Porthos' response before he produced another deep hearty chuckle as he came further into the room.

Aramis glanced over his shoulder at Porthos before turning back with a huge beam across his face. He was evidently delighted about the fact he was getting their full attention. Athos still had some worries somewhere in the back of his anxious mind. He was concerned that perhaps they were still moving too fast into their new relationship when Aramis still needed so much healing in so many areas but, the way Aramis lit up whenever they gave him attention, the way Aramis looked so content whenever they showed him that they cared for him and physically desired him, Athos couldn't deny Aramis that. In some ways he was as desperate to make Aramis as happy as Aramis appeared to be desperate to please them. 

Athos, in fact, couldn't stand it any longer; the towel was still teasing him and he'd had enough. He boldly tugged at the towel until it came loose. Then he couldn't help but stare down curiously at what he had uncovered. He had seen Aramis naked before but that didn't mean he was used to the sight yet. Aramis was incredibly handsome, everything about him was beautiful from his good heart to his attractive body. Athos pulled at the towel until it disappeared altogether, leaving him with a completely naked, freshly clean and delightfully smelling Aramis on his lap. He gave a rare smile and reached out to placed his hands gently on Aramis' hips. Athos liked clean and currently adored the way Aramis smelt of tea-tree and lime. 

“Gorgeous,” Porthos pointed out as he came onto the bed and Athos could have sworn that Aramis blushed a little bit. Then, perhaps to hide his embarrassment, Aramis dove forward and Athos found lips against his own again, a mouth consuming him until most of the air had been sucked from his lungs. Something was happening to his own trousers and soon he felt cold air against his twitching manhood but his attention was too focused on the hungry kiss to pay much attention until Aramis pulled away, leaving Athos breathless.

Aramis was smiling at him playfully, a smile which spoke of his personal delight. Then he moved forward again but didn't aim for Athos' lips this time, his hair ended up tickling at Athos' face as warm lips kissed at his neck, teeth gently scraping against his skin. Athos moaned and briefly glanced over at Porthos who appeared to be a rapt audience, staring intently at what Aramis was doing. What Aramis was doing was now biting and sucking so hard on Athos that he was going to leave marks on Athos' neck as his fingers creased into Athos' shirt. Athos threaded his fingers into Aramis' hair, the other hand resting on Aramis back until Aramis moved again, going lower down his body. Upon realising that Aramis had indeed opened up his trousers at some point, Athos had a feeling he knew where Aramis was going.

“Aramis...” he croaked, finding himself barely able to speak. Aramis' eyes darted up at him, twinkling with mischief and delight. Athos wasn't going to stop him, not his time, not if Aramis wanted to do it. And Aramis did indeed seem to want to do it. The naked man shuffled down the bed and soon Athos felt his clothes being tugged down so he lifted his hips up to assist. Then, before he even had the time to think, a gentle tongue was licking along the sensitive skin of his growing erection which made his entire body shiver.

“Aramis...” he gasped again; it appeared to be the only word he was able to say. Aramis himself was very focused on his actions. He continued to lick, all the way to the head which he then enclosed with his lips and sucked into his mouth.

“Jesus,” was the next word Athos somehow managed to let out before he closed his eyes and groaned. Aramis was opening his lips and taking Athos' cock into his mouth. He sunk his lips down so low that Athos had no-idea how he was managing it. Soon Athos was so deep inside Aramis' warm, wet mouth that he was too afraid to breathe. He could feel Aramis' tongue along the underside of his cock squirming against it and he still hadn't quite remembered how to get air into his lungs when Aramis seemed to suck in his cheeks and then moved his head back up, tugging at Athos' cock in a way that caused his body to spasm.

“Fuck,” hissed Athos, blinking his eyes open he looked down and watched as his erection reappeared slowly with Aramis' lips suctioned tightly around it. Aramis almost pulled his lips right off, tugging his skin over the head of Athos' cock before, without warning, plunging his mouth back down again and taking Athos in even deeper. This caused Athos to groan even louder. Aramis wasn't just good at this, he was amazing. 

Porthos was laughing somewhere to Athos' right.

“Athos, love, you look like you're going to pass out,” came the helpful comment. Athos somehow managed to get his breathing started again, his chest heaving as Aramis' head moved back up, sucking so hard that Athos was close to exploding already. Then warm lips were on his cheek and then against his mouth. Familiar lips and Athos closed his eyes again to kiss Porthos back. When Porthos pulled his lips away Athos began panting. Aramis was steadily moving his lips up and down, sucking so hard that Athos' really was having to fight against the threatening orgasm.

“You two look so beautiful together,” Porthos muttered and then appeared to move away. Athos wasn't sure where Porthos was going and, when he opened his eyes to look, everything was a bit of a blur so he turned to glance down and watch Aramis instead. Eyes occasionally darted up at him with delighted crinkles framing them. Aramis was happy that he was pleasing him and Athos was happy that Aramis wanted to. But he was good, too good. Athos closed his eyes and groaned loudly again when Aramis drove back down and took him in deep once more. 

Then something changed, when Aramis sucked him this time his mouth came right off and he heard a gasp coming from the man down below. 

“Please, Porthos, please,” Aramis appeared to whisper and Athos immediately opened his eyes once more with curiosity. Porthos was behind Aramis and naked from what he could tell. He was leaning over Aramis' back and kissing at his shoulder.

“Please, Porthos...” Aramis begged again and appeared to be pushing his arse up towards Porthos' groin. Was Porthos inside him? Athos couldn't tell although, judging by the begging and the way Porthos wasn't thrusting, he suspected not.

“Shh it's okay,” Porthos whispered tenderly. “Just let me make you feel good. You make Athos happy and I'll make you happy.”

Aramis' eyes blinked open and he licked his lips whilst looking at Athos' cock again. Before Athos had a chance to say anything himself, suddenly Aramis was opening up his mouth and taking him in again. This time there was less restraint over his actions and Aramis was just sucking furiously. His head bobbed up and down in a frantic rhythm which had Athos slipping down the bed. He'd never experienced anything like it, not with the same level of enthusiasm and skill. And Aramis' lips were so tight and his cheeks were sucking so hard that Athos worried that one of them would end up fainting at some point.

But Athos himself managed to stay consciously, at least long enough to watch Porthos. Porthos appeared to be rubbing himself up against Aramis' wanton arse. His arm was around Aramis' hip and he had taken Aramis into his fist. He was stroking Aramis was furiously as Aramis was sucking on Athos and the sight of it, the pure delight of watching his boyfriend pleasure another man, was making Athos' head thick with desire and dizziness. He wasn't going to last; he wasn't going to last more than a few minutes which he accepted and decided to stop fighting it. 

The faster Porthos stroked Aramis, the louder the slapping noises of his actions filled the bedroom and the more desperately Aramis sucked on Athos until he almost choked himself at one stage. He pulled back gasping and spluttering but only for a second before diving back down. Athos almost stopped him, trying to get him to calm down but his body jerked again and his balls began to feel tight and warm; he was close. Porthos, whose hips were pumping as he rubbed his cock up and down in-between Aramis' arse-cheeks, had his eyes intently on the back of Aramis' head. The fact that they were being watched and Porthos appeared to be really getting off on the sight, just made it feel even more delicious and dirty to Athos.

“Aramis...” he warned when he knew he couldn't hold back any longer but Aramis didn't stop, Aramis just groaned with desire and the noise vibrated against Athos cock as lips continued to pump up and down wildly until Athos tensed then finally let go, gasping as he came hard, exploding inside Aramis' mouth. Aramis drained him of everything and Athos' head fell back against the headboard as he began to feel woozy.

He could hear noises then. Aramis was begging once more before he stopped speaking and began to whimper. Then a grunt from Porthos, a louder cry out from Aramis, another grunt from Porthos and suddenly all of the noises stopped. Athos, trusting that his giddy head had almost recovered, risked opening up his eyes. Aramis was there panting, kneeling up now and leaning back against Porthos chest. The larger man had his arms around Aramis and was holding him steady. A small trickle of sweat rolled down the middle of Aramis' chest and disappeared underneath Porthos' arm. They were both breathless and Athos felt equally so looking at them.

Then Aramis began to closed his eyes and smile. He'd made them happy and they'd made him happy; Aramis was in heaven and Athos wasn't sure how he felt about that.

“You could have fucked me you know,” were the first words any of them said once they had all calmed down and they came from Aramis who was speaking to Porthos over his shoulder.

Porthos chortled. “I know. I'd like to...one day, but not yet. Let's just keep taking things slow.”

“I'm not sure that was slow,” Aramis pointed out which made Porthos snort with amusement, he appeared to be reluctantly loosening his grip on the naked man in front of him.

“You're going to be late,” Porthos pointed out, sighing as he sat back on his knees. “And I need to change the bed-sheets before Athos sees what a mess you just made.”

Mentioning it made Athos look down at the bed but he couldn't locate any obvious stains.

“I'll be very late now. Maybe I just shouldn't go in. I could stay here with you two?”

There it was again, Aramis' insecurities. Athos, deciding that he could cope with a stain on the bed for a few seconds, reached out to brush his fingers against Aramis' arm.

“Aramis, you'll be fine.”

Aramis didn't appear to believe Athos judging by the worried look on his face but then it switched back to a smile quickly enough. “Did you enjoy that?” he asked Athos with what appeared to be nervous curiosity. 

Athos nodded. There was absolutely nothing about what just happened which he didn't enjoy. “Very much,” he assured the man who was eagerly waiting for an answer. The response just made the grin grow.

“Good! I'm glad I could finally show you. I made a lot of money on the streets doing that!”

The comment stunned Athos. He knew that Aramis' past was part of Aramis and, therefore, would always be part of their relationship but the way Aramis just blurted stuff out...Athos still didn't know how to react. Aramis obviously read the look on Athos' face because he suddenly cringed. 

“Sorry I...I shouldn't have said that. Sorry.”

“Hey,” Porthos immediately resumed the hug, holding Aramis tightly from behind. “You can say whatever you want with us. Don't feel like you have to hide stuff from us, okay? We can take it.” He kissed Aramis on the side of the head as well, for extra reassurance.

“I know but...I shouldn't...” Aramis let out a frustrated sigh.

Porthos squeezed harder and rested his chin on Aramis' shoulder.

“That was alright though, was it?” Porthos asked. “I mean...you liked it right? You did like it? You didn't just like it because you finally had the chance to show Athos your skills?”

Aramis immediately twisted his head around whilst Porthos loosened his grip and pulled back so they could see each other. “No, I...no, I liked it a lot! What you did...I liked it a lot, I promise. It's different...so different. I...” Aramis stumbled, biting onto his bottom lip he was obviously trying to figure out if he should say something or not. Athos could barely see his eyes but he could clearly see the concern on Porthos' face from where he was still sitting.

“What is it, love?” 

“...I've never felt...no-one has ever...cared so much about me before,” Aramis admitted. “Even Marsac, I know he loved me but he always did whatever he wanted. He never...well no-one has ever seriously asked me if I like something, at least not in a way that means they actually care about my answer.”

Aramis dropped his head and Porthos immediately scooped him up in his arms, gripping him tightly. He looked over Aramis' shoulder at Athos and Athos could see the pain on Porthos' face.

“We always want to make sure you like it, always,” Porthos whispered as he clung on. “And you need to always be honest with us. If you don't like something, god just tell us and we'll stop. If we're not doing something you want, talk to us about it. Promise me, okay?”

Aramis nodded against Porthos' shoulder and Athos watched them both embrace before beginning to worry about the fact Aramis really was going to be late for work if he didn't get a move on. Athos hated being late for work and the thought of Aramis being late on what was only his second day was made Athos very anxious.

“Why is Athos being quiet?” came the mumble against Porthos' shoulder after a moment of silence.

Porthos smiled. “Because he's probably thinking about the mess on the bed-sheet.”

“I am not,” Athos pointed out adamantly. “I'm actually just thinking that Aramis needs to get to work.”

“Eh, I was close,” Porthos said and grudgingly let go of Aramis. “One thing you'll quickly learn about Athos is that you'll be having the best sex in the world one minute and then, the second it's over, he's thinking about work or something else. I try not to take offence.”

Athos was about to mount a protest but decided against it. “He does need to get a move on though,” he pointed out instead which appeared to make both Aramis and Porthos laugh which at least got rid of the tension.

“Yeah, you do,” Porthos said before giving Aramis a playful slap on the hip. “Go and get clean again. I'll give you a lift in ten minutes.”

Aramis didn't protest, he just climbed off the bed with a smile on his face and grabbed his towel before disappearing out of the room.

Athos watched him go and sighed. Lifting up his hips he pulled his trousers back up and tucked himself back in. Were they doing the right thing? Porthos obviously caught the sigh because he shuffled closer.

“You alright?”

Athos nodded. “Yes, I'm fine. I just...I'm worried if having a sexual relationship with someone who has his past is....are we doing the right thing?”

Porthos nodded in sympathy. “I worry about it sometimes as well but he has been living with us for a while now and we all have feelings for each other. We could wait two years before we have sex with him but what will that change? He likes sex, he isn't traumatised in that way. So, the best thing we can do I reckon, is to show him what good, healthy sex in a secure, loving relationship is. That's how he's going to learn and heal. Us telling him that we can't have sex for ages is...well that just won't work, he'll go elsewhere instead. 

“He associates sex with attention and affection and he adores those two things. No...we just keep doing what we're doing. Not taking things too fast but not denying ourselves either. It seems to be working, he's getting happier and more confident as the days go by.”

Porthos was right and Athos knew it. Porthos had obviously been thinking about it all as well and had come to the same conclusions as Athos. But perhaps Athos needed his thoughts validated by someone else because hearing it from Porthos' lips made him believe it. Porthos was smart and sensible and knew far more about healthy relationships than Athos did. The fact they were on the same wave length made Athos feel satisfied...until he remembered there were stains on the bed-sheets.

Porthos eventually disappeared off with Aramis to take him to work, leaving Athos behind to wash the bed-sheets and make dinner; Athos and the dog. The dog followed Athos around the kitchen the entire time he was cooking which wound Athos up because he thought that they had an understanding which amounted to leaving each other alone but today, each time he turned around, the dog was standing there watching whilst licking its lips. Athos sighed. 

“Did Aramis not feed you?” he asked. Of course he knew that he wasn't going to get a helpful answer and he suspected that most dogs would lie in response to that question anyway so Athos decided that giving the dog a few biscuits wouldn't hurt and it might make it go away. 

He went over to the bag on the floor beside the fridge where the dog-food was kept and scooped up some biscuits in the cup. He carried the cup over to the dog's bowl and poured the biscuits in. Frodo immediately wagged his tail and then set about munching his dinner down.

Athos watched Frodo eat and noticed that the dog's ribs weren't as prominent anymore. Rather like his owner, the dog had put on a bit of weight. The thought made Athos smile to himself for they'd taken in two stray creatures in need of love and had given them both a new home. 

Athos had a rather strange and surprising urge to try stroking the dog, although he wasn't sure where the urge came from. But, deciding it would be good for his OCD to challenge himself, he slowly crouched down and reached out with his arm. His hand began to tremble as it moved closer to the dog and Athos began to question what he was doing but, no, he'd set himself the challenge now and he was going to see it through...he could always wash his hands five times afterwards to get all the 'dog' off.

He tried to control his breathing which was threatening to speed up in panic as he desperately attempted not to think about the dirt and germs which were surely covering the dog, crawling all over it. He closed his eyes to compose himself and just about managed to get the tips of his fingers against the fur.

“You can do it,” he told himself out loud. “It's just a dog.”

He was about to push his hand further into the fur when a voice made him jump out of his skin.

“Aww are you two finally becoming friends?”

Athos immediately pulled his arm back and almost fell onto his arse but managed to reach out to place a hand onto the floor to stop himself just in time. He then glared up at the offender and discovered Porthos standing there grinning.

“For fucks sake,” Athos muttered and then stood himself up, brushing the tips of his fingers against his trousers frantically. 

“Sorry, love,” Porthos said but was laughing as he came over. “That was very cute. I didn't mean to make you jump.”

“It's fine,” Athos said, although it wasn't, his heart was pounding hard in his chest. He immediately went over to the sink to wash his hands in order to calm himself down. “How did it go? Did you have to drag him in?”

“Nah,” Porthos made his way over to the table and sat down. “He came up with a very long and inventive list of reasons as to why he shouldn't go to work during the drive but, once we were there, he went in okay. He'll be fine. It'll be like the last time, he'll come back all smiles. And, I have some news...”

“Yes?” Athos asked curiously, raising an eyebrow over his shoulder as he continued to wash his hands. “Do tell.”

Porthos was smiling so Athos knew it must be good news but Porthos waited until Athos had finished washing and had brought dinner over to the table before he made the announcement.

“The lettings agency phoned up and left a message whilst I was driving. We got that apartment, the one with the piano.”

Athos, still not quite as excited about the idea of having to move as the other two, did manage to smile. They did really need a bigger place for the three of them...four of them. “That is good news.”

“Yup, so we both need to go to their office later this week to get started on the paperwork. He reckons they'll easily be-able to rent out this place because there are lots of young couples looking for somewhere affordable but it does mean that we might be in our new place before this place is being rented but that doesn't matter, does it?”

Athos shook his head. “No, we have enough savings to pay both the mortgage and rent for a little while.”

They did indeed have plenty of savings due to the fact neither of them had much of a life outside of work. They hardly every went on holiday and neither of them had expensive tastes in anything. They'd also brought the cheapest house they could find back when they first moved in together because neither of them could be bothered to look around at properties. Porthos had changed a little since those days and Porthos currently looked so happy that it made Athos happy until the next question came just as Athos was tucking into his food.

“Have you called your mother yet?”

Athos' fork lingered half-way between his plate and his mouth. Obviously his expression said it all.

“Athos,” Porthos sighed. “Call her. See how she is.”

“I will,” Athos promised knowing that, if he made the promise, then he'd actually have to do it.

“Good because, if you don't, then I'll call her. And you won't like it if her and I become friends.”

Athos frowned because no he wouldn't like that at all. “I'll call her,” he insisted and did exactly that from the arm-chair after they had eaten and Porthos offered to wash-up.

His mother seemed surprised by the phone-call and he didn't blame her, he couldn't remember the last time he had phoned her. He asked her how she was and she went into a rant about some ghastly tea-party she had attended at the weekend. Once she had finally finished the story Athos asked her again.

“I meant...how are you really?” he repeated, hoping she'd get his meaning so that he wouldn't have to spell it it. There was a pause at the other end of the phone and Athos wondered for a moment if she was actually going to be honest with him about her feelings. Feelings weren't something that either of them found it very easy to talk about, let alone with each other. However she surprised him slightly by her response.

“Your father isn't home yet and there's part of me which is glad. I'm not sure I want to face him.”

Athos could understand as there had been many moments in his own marriage when he had just dreaded Anne getting home because he knew she was upset about something or other and they'd argue all night long.

“Have you heard from him at all?” Athos asked, attempting to discern what the situation was between them.

“No,” she told him. “He hasn't called since he left.”

Athos' anger towards his father continued to grow. Whilst he had never liked either of his parents and they certainly had never taken the time to understand him, there were small aspects of them both which Athos did admire and that was the only reason why he hadn't cut them out of his life completely. His mother certainly had a lot of strength, stubbornness and determination. And his father, despite being born into money, had always worked hard and had never taken anything for granted. He was also, Athos had once believed, a man of strong morals. Now Athos was beginning to realise that it had all been a visard as a man of strong morals wouldn't constantly cheat on his wife. A man of strong morals wouldn't miss his own sister's funeral to spend time with his mistress. 

“Perhaps he'll just leave, I don't know,” Athos offered, trying to think of something to say which would make his mother feel better. “Then you can stay in the house.”

“Well that all depends on if his slut wants to live here, I suppose,” his mother spat with bitterness and Athos didn't know how to respond. Perhaps he should have let Porthos call her after all, Porthos always knew what to say. 

“I umm...” Athos felt a little lost for words. “...Porthos and I are always here if you need us.”

He wasn't sure where that statement had come from but he found that he did partly mean it. She was a difficult woman, certainly, but he didn't want her to go through it all alone.

“Thank you, darling,” his mother said and, whilst it could have been Athos' imagination, he could have sworn that her voice shook a little. “You and Porthos must come and visit again soon.” 

The short-conversation ended with good-byes and Athos stared down at his phone for a little while reflecting on the fact that it was the first time he'd ever had a conversation on the phone with his mother without feeling like he wanted to completely disown her. His father on the other hand...

“Everything alright?” Porthos asked, peeking round from the kitchen as he wiped his hands on a tea-towel.

“I just want to yell at him,” Athos admitted, looking over at his boyfriend. “I know that marriages don't always work out, god I know that, and I know that their marriage has just been for show for the most part but why doesn't he just leave her properly instead of putting her through this...humiliation of knowing he's off somewhere with another woman? I don't understand.”

“Then yell at him,” Porthos suggested with a shrug. “You should call him and get angry with him if that's what you need to do.”

“No, that isn't how it works with my father. You don't get angry with him, he doesn't let you. He has this way of...I can't even describe it. I don't know how he does it. It's manipulation I guess but in a way that's charming. You try to get angry at him but, within minutes, he has twisted it around somehow and suddenly you feel guilty for being upset. It's...I don't know.”

“Hmm he sounds like a delight,” Porthos mused and walked into the living-room. “I don't know where you came from. You're so different to both of your parents. Well...apart from being stubborn which I think you got from your mother.” Porthos perched himself on the arm of the chair and reached out to stroke Athos' shoulder. “You should still yell at him though, if you need to. He must know that he's doing something wrong and maybe he needs someone to wake him up.”

“Part of me just wants to stay out of it,” Athos admitted with a sigh, appreciating the soothing hand on his shoulder. “They've never really been a part of my life recently, I don't know why I'm getting involved.”

“Well, that's up to you. I'll let you think about that one.”

Porthos took his hand away and stood up again. “Well, we've got the whole evening to ourselves, what we gonna do?”

He was looking down at Athos expectantly but Athos couldn't come up with anything. “Well we...what are our choices? All we do is work, sleep, have sex...read...work...occasionally watch a movie...cook but we've already eaten...work...sleep...”

“Dear god you're right. We need to get some hobbies.”

Athos smiled. “Well, you're about to inherit a piano.”

That made Porthos chuckle. “I won't be-able to play that thing with my thick fingers. Nah, I was hoping either you or Aramis would learn. Come on, you're posh, you must have had some music lessons as a kid?”

“I did.”

“What did you learn?”

Athos didn't really want to tell him but Porthos was standing there looking interested and expectant so Athos decided to be honest.

“The French horn.”

That had Porthos laughing. “Well that's a little different to a piano I guess but must mean you can read music at least.” Porthos then disappeared into the kitchen and Athos heard him still chuckling and muttering 'French horn'.

By the time Porthos had come back and sat himself down on the sofa-bed, Athos had come up with an idea about what they could do.

“We could work,” he suggested eagerly. “Do some research into what Father Vincent did around the community. If he did start up a programme for misbehaving boys, like Aramis suggested, there will be records of it. Perhaps we could track down some of the boys...”

“Yeah, maybe...alright,” Porthos conceded. “God I can't believe he was just given easy access to all those kids, you know?”

“Indeed. I don't for a second believe that the Catholic church is more rife with child abusers than any other group but communities trust Priests and church leaders. They give them access to child in a way that other pedophiles just don't get. And some of those men betray that trust in the must heinous way possible.”

Porthos nodded in agreement. “And Aramis...well Rene I bet...I bet he was such a sweet little kid, you know? He's so lovely and kind-hearted now, despite what has been through. I bet back then he was even more polite and eager to please and...urgh, makes me sick thinking about it. I want to just...wring that fucking Priest's neck.”

Athos sympathised and could understand completely but they had a job to do and both Anne's and Treville's suggestion was still playing on his mind. 

“I want to interview Father Vincent,” he admitted. “It could prove useful. I understand though that you may not want to come with me and that's perfectly fine. I could take Constance or perhaps even d'Artagnan. In fact I probably should take d'Artangnan, it would be a good experience for him. Well good isn't the right word but you know what I mean.”

Porthos went quiet for a while, he was obviously thinking about it and ended up giving a nod. “Yeah I...I know I should be professional about it but I'd find it hard considering our relationship with Aramis. I can't promise that I wouldn't let my emotions get the better of me. I would prefer it if you took someone else.”

“Then I will,” Athos said, appreciating Porthos' honesty. “I'll phone up the prison tomorrow and arrange a meeting. And apart from that well...I suppose we should just spend time with Aramis as he is our job right now. I do need to talk to him about testifying though. I have a meeting with the lawyer again on Friday and I promised her that I would speak to Aramis before then.”

“Fuck,” was Porthos' abrupt response. Then he sighed and sunk down against the pillows slightly. “I don't want to talk to him about that. He's going to freak out. He barely mentions Marsac anymore, he's moving on. I don't want to drag it all back up again.”

“We don't have a choice,” Athos pointed out, moving to lean forward in the armchair. “If we want Marsac out of his life for a long-time then we need Aramis on the stand testifying.”

“But I don't think he'll want to do it. It took a lot for him to snitch on Marsac in the first place so to stand up there, to face him...I don't think he'll be-able to do it, Athos.”

“But we have to ask him,” Athos pointed out, knowing that he was repeating what they had argued about before. “At least give him the choice. It's his life after all.”

Athos got up and walked over to the sofa-bed. Porthos was looking distressed and Athos wanted to offer him some support as it was something he probably didn't do enough. Porthos immediately shuffled over and opened up his arms so that Athos could come and lie with him. Athos lay on his side and was soon on the loving end of a hug as he cuddled up against Porthos' broad figure.

“Mmm this is nice,” Porthos whispered. “Cuddles with my favourite Detective Sergeant.”

Athos closed his eyes as his cheek rested against Porthos' chest. His fingers stroked his boyfriend's t-shirt slowly. Porthos smelt of their dinner, the old cologne which he always wore and something else which Athos could never put his finger on but it was just real, homely and very Porthos.

“I should hope that I am your favourite DS,” Athos pointed out, mumbling against him.

“Oh you are. Although the one I had before you was pretty nice too.” 

Athos could tell that Porthos had amused himself by the way his chest rocked up and down.

“Then go and ask her for cuddles,” Athos muttered grumpily which just made Porthos laugh out loud before giving Athos a squeeze.


	37. The Opening-Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Trigger warning - child abuse - Whilst those that have been following this story and have read this far probably already know or at least suspect this is coming, I just wanted to warn you all that there will be details regarding Aramis (and Marsac's) past revealed over the next few chapters. I don't intend to write anything which I'd consider to be graphic but no doubt it won't be easy to read at times so I wanted to warn you all.]

They didn't do any work as Porthos appeared to be thoroughly enjoying spending with an unusually compliant Athos and refused to let him go. Athos wasn't complaining either. They sat and talked and binge-watched a TV show called Criminal Minds which Athos criticised the entire way though but secretly enjoyed it. They also both lost track of the time until Porthos suddenly shifted.

“Oh shit, it's gone eleven, I'd better go get him. He's finishing later tonight so I said I'd go pick him up.”

Athos reluctantly pushed against Porthos' chest to detach them both. It was only when Athos attempted to sit up that he realised his neck had been in the same position for the last couple of hours and boy it hurt. He immediately reached up to rub at his grumbling muscles as Porthos clambered off the sofa-bed.

“You wanna come?” Porthos asked, seemingly oblivious to Athos' pain despite the grimace which must have been obvious on his face. 

“No, you go. I'll wait here.”

Athos bravely attempted to slowly move his head from side-to-side whilst Porthos put on his boots. By the time Porthos left Athos was able to get off the sofa-bed and carefully went into the kitchen to make sure that everything was clean and tidy. Athos did briefly debate going to bed because he was feeling exhausted but he knew that he wouldn't be-able to sleep until he knew if Aramis' shift had gone well so he read a book in the arm-chair as he waited for the two of them to return. He was relieved to see the smile on Aramis' face when the man appeared from the hallway.

“Tell Athos the exciting news,” Porthos encouraged as walked in behind. Aramis was saying busy hello to Frodo who was jumping up at him but then he aimed his grin across at Athos.

“I'm going to get a contract and I have to get a...a bank account so I can be paid...”

“No, no, not that,” Porthos interrupted with a chuckle as he reached out to rub Aramis' back encouragingly. “Although that is good news. But no, the other thing.”

“Oh!” Aramis stood up properly after Frodo had rushed off to jump into his dog-bed. “I've been invited to a party on Friday. One of the waiters is leaving because he's going travelling so he's having a leaving party.”

Athos had a feeling that was meant to be happy about the news but he didn't feel that way, all that came to his mind were all of the terrible things which could happen to Aramis at a party; he'd be on his own and vulnerable and goodness knows who might try to take advantage of him and...Athos paused and closed his eyes. Aramis was a grown-up, he would be fine. It was good that he was already developing a social life. He knew that Porthos would tell him to smile and say all of the right things so he re-opened his eyes, put on a strained smile and tried his best.

“That's great, that was nice of him to invite you.”

“Yeah but...I don't have enough money,” Aramis admitted, glancing over at Porthos who was now standing beside him. “I think it's a meal and then out dancing in a club and I haven't been paid yet.”

“We can lend you the money, love,” Porthos pointed out straight away. “Then you can pay us back once you get paid. God don't worry about that.”

Once everything was settled and Athos had carried out his night-time rituals, he sat himself up in bed continuing to read with the aid of a bedside lamp as he waited for Porthos to come out of the bathroom. Eventually Porthos appeared and darted underneath the duvet before he got cold. Although if Porthos did insist in wearing nothing but a pair of boxers all year round...

“It's good, isn't it?” Porthos said as he snuggled down into the duvet. “He's making friends.”

“Yes I suppose,” Athos said as he stared at his book, needing to finish the right-hand page before he could put it down, another of his 'habits'. “As long as they're nice friends. I only want him to be around people who are a good influence.”

“I don't think we need to worry. Old Mathieu seems like a good bloke. I don't think he'd hire anyone too outrageous.” 

Athos hoped that Porthos was right and that M. Mathieu was indeed a good judge of character if these people were to become Aramis' friends. He finished the right-hand page before pressing the button on the bedside light five times until it went off.

The following day Athos forced himself to spend a lazy morning in the house as Porthos wanted to find a bunch of paperwork to take to the lettings agency. Aramis was pleased to have them around, he dragged Athos out to take Frodo for a walk with him and then talked the entire time about nature and books and whatever came into his head. Athos happily listened because hearing Aramis so cheerful and relaxed was one of his favourite things in life.

Then, when it was time for Aramis to see Ninon, they all drove to the police station together. They left Aramis with Ninon and went upstairs into the office. Athos was hoping that d'Artagnan would be there so he could ask if d'Artagnan would accompany him to the prison to interview Vincent but neither d'Artagnan or Constance were around so Athos just assumed that it would be okay and rang the prison to arrange a visit. They promised to get back to him with a time as soon as they could.

Athos and Porthos then spent time trying to research the role Father Vincent had to play in his local community. It was difficult due to the fact that they were looking for information which would now be a decade or two old and this led to neither of them coming up with much. Athos even read the history page of the church where Father Vincent had been serving before his arrest but, unsurprisingly, there was no mention of Father Vincent at all on their website. There was even a gap on their Priest time-line page where his name should have appeared. They obviously wanted to pretend that he had never existed. 

“Maybe we could find out who was the Bishop at the time?” Porthos suggested out of the blue. “He should know what Vincent got up to, which projects he started and helped out with.”

Athos thought that was an incredibly good idea and immediately went back to the boxes of files he still had stored beside his desk. Vincent's Bishop was interviewed at the time of the enquiry, Athos remembered reading the transcript of the interviews so his name would be in the paperwork somewhere. Athos had just found the right file when Porthos mentioned that the finish of Aramis' time with Ninon was approaching.

“You go and get him,” Athos proposed; he was in work-mode now and wanted to keep going. “I might spend more time here and I need to catch d'Artagnan.”

Porthos didn't look too happy about leaving Athos behind but nodded and left to go and fetch Aramis. Athos immediately searched the online clergy database in order to discover what the current whereabouts of Bishop Bernard. The Bishop in question had retired five years ago so Athos noted down his address and contact details before looking up because he heard Constance's voice. She was walking into the office with d'Artagnan in tow, they were both talking and d'Artagnan was smiling at something. Athos briefly wondered if they'd ever actually talked about the drunken night they had spent together before promptly deciding that it was none of his business and he didn't want to get involved. 

Neither of them appeared to notice him which forced Athos to gave to get up and go over to their two desks which were opposite each other in the same way he sat opposite Porthos.

“D'Artagnan, I have a favour to ask of you,” he said firmly as he stood beside d'Artagnan's desk. D'Artagnan almost jumped before sitting up straight and grinning up at Athos.

“Athos! What is it?”

“I may possibly need you to come with me to interview someone in jail. A Priest who was convicted of child abuse a few years ago. I suspect that there may have been other adults involved and I want to see if he'll give up the names.”

“Okay,” d'Artagnan looked enthusiastic but then briefly paused his keenness. “Why do you need me? I mean isn't Porthos...”

Athos wasn't keen on telling d'Artagnan the truth about the case being connected to Aramis so decided to keep that part to himself for the time-being. “Porthos has something else which he needs to be doing. I thought you wouldn't mind?”

“No, I don't mind at all,” d'Artagnan said, still very eager to be of assistance. “Whatever you need me to do, Athos.”

“Would you like a foot-rub as well, Athos?” Came the teasing voice of Constance who was impersonating the young man. D'Artagnan immediately flushed and his embarrassment appeared to spur her on. “Or maybe a full body massage?” She then laughed at her own ribbing whilst d'Artagnan threw a pen in her direction in an attempt to silence her. Athos had a better idea.

“Have you found those runaways yet?” he asked, curious to hear about their work and keen to distract them from throwing things. He knew that he should really spend a lot more time with them both, help them with their cases but he'd been so distracted lately...

“Umm no,” d'Artagnan admitted. “But we have some leads. They were seen pick-pocketing so we know they're still in Paris. We just need to track them down.”

“Well keep going,” Athos encouraged. “The sooner you find them the better. Statistics show that...” He promptly shut himself up knowing that they wouldn't care. The silence, however, gave space to an idea. “Porthos has a friend called Charon who sometimes proves to be very useful. He works a lot with teenage runaways, talks them into going back home, then invites them to attend boxing and marital arts classes at his gym so he can keep an eye on them. I'll give you his number.” Athos pulled his phone out of his pocket and then sent a text to d'Artagnan with Charon's number attached. “Give him a call as you never know he may have the time to go searching with you, he'll know the places to look.”

“Thanks, Athos!” D'Artagnan said and Athos, deciding that his job as the supportive supervisor was done for the day, left them both to it. He briefly went off to the canteen to buy some lunch before sitting at the desk and calling the number he had written down for the Bishop. In his experience the clergy, even those that had retired, tended to be very busy people so he mentally prepared himself to leave a answer-machine message so was surprised when the Bishop actually picked up the phone.

“My name is Detective Sergeant de le Fere and I was wondering, well hoping, if I could come and speak to you sometime about an old case?”

“Which old case?” The Bishop asked in a way that at least made him appear interested.

“Father Vincent.”

He heard the Bishop sigh down the phone. “He's in jail, son, and he will be there for a very long time.”

“I know but this is about something else with is connected to him. You may be-able to help me with my enquiries.”

The Bishop didn't respond straight away and Athos began to wonder if the man was going to refuse. In the original interviews Bishop Bernard had actually defended Father Vincent at first, refusing to believe that his Priest was abusing children. However, once more boys came forward to give statements and the evidence began to mount, the Bishop eventually accepted the truth and was far more helpful in the later interviews.

“I may, that depends on what you want to know I suppose,” the old man eventually said. “Why don't you come over tomorrow? I'm going out to lunch but you're welcome to come before that. Say 10'o'clock? You have my address?”

“I do have your address and 10'o'clock is fine. Thank you, your Grace.”

The conversation was short but productive. Athos knew that it was usually better speaking to someone face-to-face than over the phone. He opened up the files again and eventually found everything thing to do with Bishop Bernard to re-read it in preparation of their meeting and, before he knew it, the afternoon had ticked on and it was getting late. He was just picking up his jacket to leave when his phone rang. He quickly picked it up to discover that it was the jail. They could arrange a meeting with Vincent on Thursday, would that be okay? Athos agreed to Thursday and then called d'Artagnan who had disappeared to make sure that d'Artagnan could still come. Then, desperate to tell Porthos everything which had happened, Athos took off home.

Athos was greeted at home by the heartening noise of Aramis laughing. After he had hung his coat up on the second peg to the right and lined his shoes up properly on the rack and checked that the others were all lined up properly as well, he stepped into the living-room in order to discover what was going on. Porthos was kneeling on the carpet with the dog, holding out a red biscuit dog-treat in the palm of his hand. Frodo was sitting down, staring at the treat and slapping his tail against the carpet. 

“You can do it, Frodo. Come on, watch me. Roll over, like this.”

Porthos then proceeded to lie forward on his stomach, roll over onto his back and then back onto his front in a way that was far more clumsy than graceful. Frodo watched Porthos with confused fascination before moving closer to try and get the treat out of Porthos' closed fist. Aramis was just laughing at the whole thing.

“You're useless,” Porthos sighed as the dog sniffed at his hand. 

“But your rolls are progressing nicely,” Athos pointed out. Porthos immediately looking over his shoulder and grinned as he scrambled back up onto his knees. He opened up his hand, obviously giving up his training, and Frodo snatched the treat eagerly.

“Hello, love, welcome home,” he said, stroking the dog's head. “We eh...came across a little problem in getting Aramis a bank account because he doesn't have any ID...at all. No passport, no drivers license, no birth certificate, no social security number, nothing. So I said that I'd open another account in my name which he could put his wages into it for the time-being and I'll give him the pin number so he can use the card whenever he wants.”

Athos looked over at Aramis and watched as his face sunk into unhappiness. The man that didn't exist. Perhaps this would be a good excuse to apply for Aramis' birth certificate and learn a little bit more about him. Athos was curious to discover who his mother was and also if he had a father, Aramis never mentioned one. Even though Athos could foresee a lot of tax issues with Aramis putting his earnings into a bank account with Porthos' name, he decided not to express those worries out-loud with Aramis in the room.

“Sounds like a good idea,” Athos said with a smile, trying to cheer Aramis up. He still desperately wanted to talk to Porthos but, when Porthos announced that he was going to make dinner, Athos realised that he was going to have to wait until they were both alone later on. In the meantime, he decided, spending some time with Aramis would be a good idea. It was already Tuesday and he was meeting Anne on Friday which meant he only had a couple of days to talk to Aramis about Marsac's trial.

“How did it go with Ninon earlier?” Athos asked, going over and climbing onto the sofa-bed, leaning back up against the mattress and pillows which were piled against the back, briefly wondering if Aramis had changed the sheets at all this week.

“Good,” Aramis expressed with a smile and immediately came over to cuddle up against Athos, almost lying on top of him. Athos wrapped his arm around Aramis and stroked his back slowly. 

“Was it...helpful?” He was being nosy but he couldn't help himself, he was desperate to know what they had discussed. And that was alright, wasn't it? He only wanted to know to find out so he'd know if there was anything else they could do to help Aramis.

“Yeah,” Aramis said before nuzzling his cheek against Athos' shoulder. “She's really nice.”

Athos didn't appear to be getting anywhere in his attempts at gathering information so decided to take a more direct approach. “What did you talk about?”

“Umm...can't remember...” Aramis shifted a bit and Athos was suddenly worried that perhaps he was pushing a little too much but Aramis, he soon discovered, was only moving to get more comfortable against him before then he settled again and continued talking. “...we still talked about how it was okay to want things and to ask for things. Yeah, that's what we talked about.”

“That's good.”

Ninon didn't appear to tackling any deep issues at the moment, Athos realised, she was just helping Aramis with day-to-day life which Athos thought was probably very sensible. Aramis seemed to just find normal feelings difficult to understand. He knew that Ninon would probably go into the reasons and causes behind Aramis' behaviour at a later stage when Aramis would be more ready for it.

“And what do you want?” Athos asked, curious as to what Aramis' answer would be.

“Umm...” Aramis went quiet for a moment again before he lifted his head and sat up a little. Obviously whatever he was planning to say was important because he was looking directly at Athos. Athos suddenly panicked that Aramis was going to admit to the fact he wanted to see Marsac again or, worse, admit that he was still in love with Marsac. Or Aramis was going to ask if he could work in a brothel again or perhaps Aramis wanted to stop living with them, maybe getting the new house was too much for him to cope with... Athos realised that he probably shouldn't have asked such a big question without Porthos there to help. 

“...I want to keep living with you and Porthos. That's all I want,” Aramis admitted and looked nervous about his confession. Athos, however, let out the breath he had been holding. That wasn't so bad after all.

“Well you know you can,” Athos pointed out. “You'll even get your own bedroom soon. You can live with us for as long as you want to. We really like you, you know that, right?”

Athos must have said something right for a change because Aramis was soon smiling and then he nodded with enthusiasm. “I really like you as well. I like you in ways which are sometimes confusing but I know I'm happy when I'm with you and I'm pretty sure that's a good thing.”

“That's a very good thing,” Athos hoped that he was helping. “One thing I've had to learn in life is that, when it comes to emotions, they often don't make sense. I had to learn not to analyse everything too much and worry about it all. Sometimes you've just got to...go with the flow. Even though that can be terrifying, or at least it is for me.”

“Was it confusing when you met Porthos?”

“Yes, very much, at least at first. I went through a very messy and painful divorce and, after that, I vowed never to get involved with anyone ever again. And then Porthos came along, as my work colleague, but there was something more there right from the beginning. I knew I was falling for him and he never hid his feelings from me but...yes it was confusing and scary. Even though I had sobered up by that stage I was still determined not to allow myself to get hurt again, so I denied my feelings for so long that I almost lost Porthos because I was constantly pushing him away.”

“What happened?” Aramis asked, his face full of concern.

“Everything got too much for me one night and I drank again because, back in those days, that was the only way I knew how to deal with everything. I drank so much I think I passed out on my living-room floor. To be honest I can't even remember much about it but I do remember waking up in Porthos' arms. It was strange at first, certainly, I had no recollection of Porthos even coming round to my house but there he was, in my bed, on top of the sheets with all of his clothes on hugging me tightly and, despite my killer hangover, I just felt the happiest I had felt in a long time. It just felt right and it felt safe. So I turned around and kissed him.”

The worry was gone from Aramis' face. He was obviously relieved that the story was turning out to be a happy one even though Aramis knew full well how the story ended. “And then you fell in love?”

Athos chuckled. “Well, it wasn't quite that easy. I'm fairly certain Porthos gave me a telling off first for drinking again and made me promise not to drink anymore which I've tried to keep to but yes, we eventually fell in love.”

“That's a great story,” Aramis said wistfully. 

Athos suddenly realised that the conversation had given him an opening to talk about Marsac. They were talking about love, relationships...including messy relationships that could do damage. He decided to go for it and hope for the best.

“Love can be the most amazing thing in the world but it can also be the most painful thing in the world. My ex-wife and I loved each other but we also hurt each other and that's a toxic type of love. Does that make sense?” Aramis nodded but Athos wasn't sure how much Aramis truly understood so decided to keep going. “Even though someone loves you, they can also hurt you and be selfish and unkind...” He got a little stuck then. He wasn't sure how to turn the conversation from the people who love you can also hurt you into 'so will you testify against Marsac?'

“Do you think it's because they're sad?” Aramis suddenly asked.

“Sad?” Athos questioned after giving himself a moment to catch up. “What do you mean?”

“Well...when people are unkind to others, I think it's because they're sad. Maybe something is making them sad and then they take it out on others.”

Athos pondered the observation for a moment even though they weren't going in the direction he had hoped to, or were they? He couldn't help but wonder if Aramis was thinking about Marsac. “Yes, I think you're right. Or at least that can sometimes be the case.” Other times people are just bastards, he thought silently but decided not to mention that. He really needed to bring up Marsac, it was the perfect opportunity. “Do you think Marsac was sad?”

The question didn't appear to shock Aramis although he did break eye-contact to stare at something else in the room for a moment. “Yeah, I think he was always a little sad. He smiled a lot more when I first met him but there was still something there, some sort of hurt. That's why I always tried to make him happy.”

Now the conversation was going in a direction that Athos was very interested in.

“Do you know why he was sad? I know you said that he didn't talk much about his childhood...but maybe it was that?”

Aramis nodded and slowly turned his head back to look at Athos. “Yeah, I think so. I know he didn't like his parents very much. He didn't really talk much about them but, whenever I mentioned my mum, he told me to forget about her and that parents mess you up.”

Athos could relate a little to that at least although he suspected that the way Marsac's parents had let him down was on a whole other level to what Athos had experienced. Still, that didn't excuse his actions as an adult and Athos knew Aramis feeling sorry for Marsac wasn't going to get them anywhere. He needed to make that clear.

“Aramis, just because Marsac was sad, that doesn't mean he should have done all of the things he did,” Athos explained. “Running brothels, paying people with drugs, selling drugs, being violent...those are all bad things and being sad isn't an excuse for any of them.”

“I know,” Aramis nodded and it felt like a eureka moment to Athos. So Aramis did understand now, they were finally getting through to him.

“So you understand that he was a bad person, right? And that he wasn't just making people sad, he was ruining their lives?”

“He helped me though,” Aramis suddenly protested. “He loved me. He looked after me when I was on the streets, he always knew where I was. Then he put me in his best brothel because he wanted to protect me. And he let me go to his house sometimes, his own home. He let me stay the night lots of times. He paid for my apartment as well. He helped me lots, Athos, I know you think he's a bad person and sometimes he was about he was a good person as well.”

Goddamnit, Athos really thought that they were finally getting somewhere. He felt himself getting frustrated. “Yes, he helped you sort of, whilst not really helping you at all but I realise you don't understand that. But what about the others, Aramis? What about those like Alexei? Did Marsac help Alexei? And what about Fredrick, do you remember him? Do you remember those pictures I showed you of his battered body down the alleyway? Because there are a lot more pictures where those came from, Aramis, of other prostitutes and drug-addicts...people that Marsac didn't help and didn't love.”

Athos knew that he had upset Aramis because Aramis' bottom lip was twitching and he was beginning to look distressed.

“I don't want to talk about it,” he whispered.

“You can't just stop talking about something when it gets to the part you don't like!” Athos shouted harshly and immediately felt terrible about it, especially since Aramis had visibly jumped at the raised voice. But Athos was just becoming more and more frustrated at Aramis' inability to see beyond his own views.

“Athos!” Came a firm warning from the direction of the kitchen. Athos then knew that his barking had been heard by Porthos who had come out to see what was going on.

Athos calmed himself down and immediately spoke again in a more gentle tone. “I don't want to upset you, Aramis. I just want you to understand.”

Aramis nodded but he didn't say anything more, he flung himself forward towards Athos. Athos caught him just in time and wrapped his arms around the body seeking comfort. If he was going to shout, the least he could do was cuddle Aramis afterwards and, as frustrated as he felt, he knew that it wasn't Aramis' fault. 

“I'm trying to help,” he added, although he knew that he had ruined it by shouting and now the conversation was over. At least he still had Aramis in his arms, the ever-forgiving Aramis. Athos looked up at Porthos who was shaking his head disapprovingly at him but eventually, upon realising Aramis was being comforted, turned around and went back into the kitchen. 

Athos sat there, holding Aramis against him, letting Aramis decide when he wanted to move. Aramis' didn't move or say anything for such a long time that Athos began to wonder if Aramis had fallen asleep as he couldn't see with Aramis' head against his chest but then a gentle voice finally spoke.

“Father Vincent told me that, if I was nice to the other men, then they'd give money to the church...”

Athos couldn't quite believe what he was hearing and knew not to interrupt. He didn't move either, in fact he almost felt too afraid to breathe. Aramis was finally opening up...

“...and he said if our church had more money then it could help more people. And the men they...one of them wasn't French, I think he was American. The other man was French, he was older, he had some grey bits in his hair. I can't remember anything else, I'm sorry, I've been trying to remember but it was a long time ago. I mostly just remember being scared.”

There was silence then and Athos knew that was all Aramis was going to offer willingly so he decided to try and probe a little more.

“Where did Father Vincent take you to meet these men?” he asked gently, still unable to see Aramis' face but holding him tightly.

“I don't know. It wasn't far from the church, we walked there. It was like...an apartment, a really expensive one. It didn't look like anyone lived there although it had furniture but nothing else, no nice things like books.”

“How many times did you go?”

“Twice I think. Maybe...maybe I did something wrong because I wasn't very good back then. I didn't know what I was doing, not like now.”

Athos sighed and reached up to stroke Aramis' curls. No, he could imagine that a child wouldn't be very 'good'. He could imagine that a child would be utterly terrified. Athos knew not to ask any further questions. He knew that Aramis had probably just told him more than he had told anyone else in his entire life.

“Was that helpful?” Aramis whispered against Athos' chest.

“Aramis, that was incredibly helpful, thank you.”


	38. The Bishop

Retired Bishop Bernard lived in a relatively safe area in the outskirts of Paris. His detached house appeared to be quite large although it was difficult to tell from the road due to the impressive assortment of trees and plants which Athos and Porthos had to battle their way through in order to get to the front door. As Athos was an analytical man he did briefly wonder if the excessive foliage was hiding something, but perhaps he was being over-suspicious. 

Athos rang the door-bell and an elderly man appeared, opening the front door with one hand as he steadied himself with a walking stick with the other. He was short and portly with thick black spectacles which somehow balanced on his small nose. Athos briefly noticed how much Porthos towered over the Bishop after they were invited in but the Bishop didn't seem remotely intimidated, in fact he just steadily led them into a room which appeared to be an office with a large mahogany desk and bookcases. All around the room the Bishop's favourite hobby appeared to be on full display as there were miniature models of ships inside bottles on almost every surface. Athos took the time to examine a couple of them before moving to sit down in one of the offered chairs on one side of the desk.

“I can't do them anymore,” the Bishop admitted sadly as he all but fell into a brown leather chair before pushing his walking stick to one side. “Arthritis is setting in, fingers aren't what they used to be. You think when you retire that you'll have all the time in the world to do things, but then your body begins to fall apart. Old age is cruel.”

Athos watched as the Bishop rubbed his swollen old fingers. He decided that perhaps they needed to get on with their discussion, just in case the Bishop suddenly dropped dead.

“Thank you for seeing us, Bishop Bernard,” he began. Athos cared very little for stupid titles but he knew that some people still liked to be addressed in a certain way even after retirement so he decided to stroke the ex-Bishop's ego for the moment. “I know that this topic perhaps isn't one you wish to be talking about once again but, unfortunately, I believe we have to.”

The Bishop raised his white eyebrow. “And why is that? Like I told you over the phone, son, that man is receiving his punishment and what happened once he dies is for God to decide. Why are you interested in it again?” 

“Because we believe there may have been more men involved,” Athos told him honestly because, what was the point in keeping the truth from the Bishop? If they were going to get the Bishop to help they needed to tell the man why, they needed him to feel angry and shocked enough to help them in whatever way he could. Athos' statement had the right impact because the Bishop immediately sat back in his chair and stared at them both in shock. 

“What do you mean more men involved?” he asked, sounding like he couldn't quite believe it. 

“In the abuse,” Porthos pointed out. “At least two, possibly more. Father Vincent took some of the boys to these men.”

The Bishop's skin actually began to turn a little pale as his eyes continued to slowly move between them both like he was watching a tennis match. “And why do you think this?”

“Because a couple of the victims have told us,” Athos explained. 

The Bishop finally turned away to stare out the window. Athos desperately wanted to know what was going on inside his head. Was he beginning to panic because he had known about it and had covered it up? Or was he genuinely shocked because he had absolutely no-idea?

“Why wasn't this discovered during the original investigation?” he questioned the window.

Athos wasn't sure how much detail to go into so just decided to stick to the basics. “They were suspicious but they didn't have enough evidence to go down that line of enquiry so they just focused on Father Vincent. We, however, have managed to gather new evidence.”

The Bishop was silent and Athos remained patient as he waited for it all sink in for the man. He reminded himself of that the Bishop hadn't wanted to believe the truth about Vincent at first but had eventually changed his mind and helped the police. Hopefully this time the Bishop would be on their side immediately.

“I don't...I don't understand how,” the Bishop finally commented. “From my understanding most of the abuse happened at the back of the church, in the vestry. Father Vincent was alone with the boys. I don't know how any other men could have been involved unless they were...members of the church?”

Athos shook his head. “We're not sure who the men were yet but but we have a feeling that Vincent was doing some sort of deal with these men. Something to do with money.”

The Bishop immediately turned to stare at Athos, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agasp. “Are you telling me he was selling the boys to these men?”

“Sort of. Perhaps in a complicated way. Like they were...giving money to the church perhaps...or projects. We need access to the financial records of Saint-Jacques-du-Haut-Pas during the period when Father Vincent was in charge. Is that possible? And we also need to interview more possible victims. Not just the alter boys but any of the children who may have been a part of any of his projects.”

“I don't know if I can give you any names. Back in those days no-one kept records of those sorts of things. There weren't all the safe-guarding rules in place like we have now. But the financial records, I can certain try and help with that. I'd have to make some phone-calls and someone will have to do a lot of digging in old files but it's possible the accountancy records still exist.”

Porthos sat forward in his chair. “What projects did he run back then?”

The Bishop, who still looked like a deer caught in the head-lights, took a deep breath and paused to think. 

“It was a long time ago, son, I can barely recall. I know that Vincent was very passionate about helping children who were having problems at school. The trouble-makers, you know? His church ran various youth groups and youth programmes from what I remember. Well...they still do. You could always go and speak to the current Priest and I'm sure he'd do whatever he can to help but he wasn't around back in those days, he won't remember any of the boys names. He might be-able to point you in the direction of people that may remember though. I'm afraid I just visited the programmes once or twice, I was never really involved.”

“We'll visit the church,” Athos said, beginning to feel satisfied that the Bishop was genuinely trying to be as helpful as he could.

There was a knock at the door which caused them to pause the conversation. When the door opened an elderly lady with pearl earrings poked her head in. “I thought you might all like some coffee and cake.”

“Margrette,” the Bishop spoke with a tiny hint of irritation. “We're having a serious talk.”

“All the more reason for cake then,” she responded and pushed the door open further with her elbow. She was carrying a tray which she brought into the room. The Bishop sighed in defeat. Clearly, Athos concluded, this was his housekeeper.

“Margrette, this is Detective Sergeant de la Fere and Detective Constable du Vallon. Gentlemen, this lady is the closest thing I've ever come to having a wife...she's my housekeeper.”

They both smiled politely at her as she placed the tray down on the desk. “It's always a pleasure to meet members of the police force. Would you both like milk in your coffee?”

Athos and Porthos both nodded and she began to pour the drinks into white bone china mugs. “And you must try my carrot cake, you can't leave until you do.”

Athos could have sworn that he heard Porthos' stomach rumble at the request.

“They're here to talk about Father Vincent, Margrette. They think that other men may have been abusing boys as well and that Vincent was organising it in some way for money.”

Athos wasn't best pleased that the Bishop was telling his housekeeper but he suspected that he would have told her once they had left anyway.

“More men?! Is that possible?”

“We believe so,” Porthos said, reaching out for his coffee once the milk had been stirred in. “Two maybe. One American and one French. The Bishop is going to help us with our investigation.”

“I should hope so. That makes me sick just thinking about it. American you said?”

Porthos nodded as Athos was passed his drink which he thanked her for.

“I bet you're talking about that awful man. Bernard, what was his name? The one that brought those buildings and turned then into luxury flats. He knew Vincent. Oh what was his name?” 

The Bishop didn't appear to know who she was talking about and offered up a shrug.

“Oh you do know,” she snapped at him. “You never trusted him. Vincent always invited him along to various dinners and gatherings. He wasn't a man of god, don't you remember him? You said he had a gambling habit and his wife hardly ever spoke. And they had two twin daughters that they dressed up like dolls. You must remember.”

“Do you mean Hector Lovitt?”

“Yes!” She said, seemingly pleased that he had caught up. “He had friends in high places, especially in politics,” she was talking more to Athos and Porthos now. “But he wanted to be friendly with the church as well, he wanted his dirty fingers in all of the pies. Awful man, he challenged my Christian values of loving my neighbour.”

“Margette, you can't just accuse Hector of being a child abuser just because you didn't like the man.”

“Well they said one was an American and he's the only American I know and he knew Vincent; they seemed friendly with each other.”

Athos knew immediately that they needed to find out more about this Hector Lovitt and was now very pleased that the Bishop had told her.

“Do you know where Hector is now?” Athos asked curiously.

“He went back to America,” the Bishop said. “A while ago now. It must have been around the time when...” The Bishop sighed deeply. “...when Vincent was arrested...”

Bishop Bernard and his housekeeper briefly glanced at each other then both turned away with sad expressions. She appeared to pull herself together though and straightened her back. “I'm not accusing the man of anything, I'm just saying that he was American and he and Vincent had a sort of friendship. It would be worth your time to consider him. Now, have some carrot cake.”

After eating carrot cake they left knowing a lot more than they had going in. Athos was pleased, the investigation was finally getting somewhere and, the more he thought about it, the more the pieces seemed to be fitting together.

“Aramis talked about an empty apartment,” he explained as Porthos drove them home. “He said that he was taken to a nice apartment but it looked like no-one was living there. Perhaps it was the apartments Hector Lovitt's company were doing up. It would make sense to abuse children somewhere empty where they would be no witnesses.” Porthos remained silent which caused Athos turn to look at him. “Are you alright?”

“Just finding this all hard is all,” Porthos mumbled. “I know we deal with horrible stuff like this all the time but I've always been-able to detach myself somehow from it before. But this is about Aramis and I'm just finding it hard.”

Athos nodded. “I understand. But you must find a way to detach yourself because it's important we get this right.”

“I know but, the more information we find out about it, the more I can picture it in my head. Young Aramis...this poor scared kid, doing whatever his mother and the Priest tell him to do. Being so eager to be a good boy and to please them. It makes me feel sick to my stomach...it makes me want to cry and hold him and keep him safe from all the bad stuff in the world because no-one has ever fucking done that in his life before.”

“Porthos,” Athos reached over and placed his hand on Porthos' arm. He didn't want to do it without Porthos, he didn't want to investigate anything without his partner, but if it was truly proving to be too much of an emotional struggle for Porthos then he would understand. “Would you rather step away from the investigation? I can do it by myself, or with d'Artagnan and Constance if Treville will allow it.”

“No!” Porthos said immediately, his fingers tightening on the steering-wheel. “God no. I couldn't live with myself if I did that either. I wanna get these bastards. I just...I hope you'll be okay with me talking about how it's making me feel sometimes because I need to talk to someone about it.”

“Well you could always talk to...”

“If you say Ninon, I'm gonna bloody scream.”

“...Constance,” Athos finished. He was indeed going to say Ninon but thankfully he managed to think of someone else in time. “Because I realise I am sometimes emotionally inept although you are welcome to talk to me as well.”

That made Porthos smile a little. “You're not as emotionally inept as you think you are. You don't do too badly. You do need to stop shouting at Aramis though.”

“I know. I need to learn to control my frustration.”

“Yeah you do. He probably just told you what he did because he wanted you to stop being mad and to like him again and that's not exactly a good thing. I don't want him to feel like that with you.”

Athos didn't know what to say because he had never thought of it that way before. It made him dread the conversation he still needed to have with Aramis even more. “I need to talk to him about taking the stand in Marsac's trail before Friday. I don't know how he's going to react to that.”

“Promise me one thing?” Porthos requested. “You won't talk to him without me there.”

“I promise.”

They then spent around an hour sitting in the lettings agency office. Athos read what he was meant to read, signed what he was meant to sign but his thoughts were on the case. Hector Lovitt, it made sense; he was American, a friend of Vincent's and had money and access to empty apartments. Athos needed to find out more about this Hector Lovitt. Perhaps he could bring up the name when he visited Vincent to see what sort of a reaction it would get. 

When they got home Athos calmed his mind but sorting out the shoes. Porthos had put his the wrong way round in his haste to see Aramis and some of the others were a little crooked. So he got them all back into order and felt better for it afterwards. Once he was in the living-room he found Porthos and Aramis standing there hugging.

“What you been up to then?” Porthos asked the man in his arms.

“Frodo and I went down to the day centre and I played some chess. Señora Rosario was there, she's feeling much better now...”

Athos left them talking to go upstairs. He grabbed his laptop from his bedside table and pulled it onto the bed. Once it had turned on he immediately typed Hector's name into the police database but nothing came up which meant he didn't have a criminal record. Google proved slightly more helpful. Hector Lovitt was the director of a property development company. Their headquarters were in America but they also owned buildings in Western Europe. 

Athos' back was beginning to ache so he pulled the laptop onto his lap and sat back against the headboard to continue his research. During the time period when Hector would have been in Paris, Athos found his name connected to a couple of local news articles in the online archives. There had been a couple of small protest demonstrations in Paris against the company for the way they had kicked out the tenants of the run-down apartment blocks which they were buying up. Apart from that Athos discovered that the company did appear to give grants to charitable causes in order to prove that they were nice people really. 

He was just beginning to search and see if he could discover any charities they had given money to in Paris when the bedroom door swung open and Aramis appeared. Athos immediately closed down the windows he had open on his laptop just in case Aramis came closer and saw what he was doing.

“Are you alright?” Athos asked when Aramis appeared to do nothing more than stand in the doorway with a smile on his face. Aramis was wearing a sweater which appeared to be a little on the large side. It did make Athos briefly ponder if Aramis was losing weight again but then something occurred to him...the sweater didn't belong to Aramis, it belonged to Porthos. When did they start borrowing clothes? Athos suddenly worried about his perfectly organised wardrobe...

“Porthos said you signed the papers for the apartment today.”

“Indeed we did.”

“You haven't even seen it yet,” Aramis pointed out as his smile extended into a grin.

Athos shrugged. “I don't need to see it. If you both like it then that's good enough for me.”

Aramis came over to the bed and sat himself down, fingers poking at the duvet. “I'm really excited about it. When can we move in?”

“Well the place is empty so I guess as soon as all of the paperwork is done but we have a lot of things to organise first and a lot of packing to do.”

“Oh I can pack!” Aramis pointed out with enthusiasm. “I can pack during the day whilst you're both at work! I can do that, you should let me help.”

The thought of Aramis touching everything and packing things and disorganising the house almost sent Athos into a state of terror but he managed to control the threatening panic attack in order to not put Aramis off from his eagerness.

“Yes, that would be helpful. You could...we'll work something out.”

Aramis was grinning again and he reached out to run his hand over the fabric of Athos' trousers before twisting to get closer to Athos and kiss him. Athos closed his eyes and accepted the offered kiss. Aramis was being tender and gentle and, whilst it was a sweet kiss, when Aramis pulled away Athos began to get suspicious.

“Did Porthos send you up here?” he questioned. Aramis laughed easily which told Athos his answer.

“No,” the man lied whilst moving nearer the close the distance between their bodies. Then he came in for another kiss. This time it was far more wanton, Aramis moaned and opened his mouth wider to devour more of Athos. Athos wasn't complaining, he lapped up the attention Aramis was giving him until Aramis pulled away once again.

“Am I better now?”

“Better?” Athos raised an eyebrow. 

“I was sick before, remember? The doctor gave me extra pills.”

Athos wasn't entirely sure if Aramis was talking about his epilepsy or the 'other thing' but he took a wild guess at it being the latter. “Oh, you mean your...umm gonorrhoea, I would think so. Have you finished your course of antibiotics?”

Aramis shook his head. “Nearly. I still have a few left.”

“Then keep taking them. It's important you finish the course. You're probably fine though but best we be careful, just in case.”

Aramis looked upset about the answer so Athos reached out and brushed some of his growing curls away from his forehead. “Are you alright?”

Aramis let out a sigh. “I just want to be better for you and Porthos.”

“What?” Athos almost snorted. “Why do you think that matters to us? You'll be better eventually which is good for you and your health.”

“But we can't do everything at the moment.”

The man continued to confuse Athos. “Aramis...what are you talking about? What's everything? Are you talking about sexual things because there are still lots of things we can do. Porthos and I aren't remotely worried about what we can and can't do right now and neither should you be.”

“You don't mind?”

“No, why would we mind?” No matter how hard they tried they just couldn't seem to get Aramis to realise that they liked him for more than just his skills in bed. Where were they going wrong? Athos silently questioned. 

Aramis appeared to think about it for a moment and then came to a conclusion. “No, I guess you don't mind because you can still fuck me. That's usually what people want to do anyway...”

“We're not your clients, Aramis, so it's not about what we want. We've been through this before...” Athos didn't mean to sound grumpy but he couldn't help himself only what Porthos had said in the car had really stuck with him and he knew that he needed to control his emotions and stay cool this time. He wasn't going to shout.

“You're upset with me.” Aramis looked worried and Athos felt guilty. Too late, even without shouting he had ruined things.

“No, I'm not. I just...wish you'd realise that we like you and it's so much more than just about sex. A lot more. Do you feel that way about us?”

“I...I like you,” came the honest reply. “I want to be with you all the time and I worry about you both when you're at work. I want to make you happy because I really want you to like me. And...and you make me happy because you hold me and do nice things. It was like that with Marsac at first and I loved Marsac. Does that mean I love you?”

Being compared to someone's pimp wasn't exactly the most romantic declaration of love Athos had ever received but there was something sweet about it all the same. 

“Maybe. And that's exactly how we feel about you. I worry about you as well and I want to make you happy. I like being around you. Sure, sex is wonderful but there is so much more to relationships than just that. Does that make sense?”

Aramis actually nodded and even began to smile. “Yes, yes it does make sense. All the things I feel about you...you feel the same about me?”

“Yes.” 

Aramis grinned from ear-to-ear for a brief moment before he abruptly frowned. 

“Then I need to be honest with you...” he said and paused. Athos tilted his head and waited. This didn't sound good at all. What did Aramis have to be honest about? What had he done? He tried to not let his imagination get the better of him and come up with all of the worst case scenarios like it normally did. Surely Aramis couldn't have done something really bad in the space of half a day?

“...Porthos did send me up here,” Aramis confessed. “He told me to make sure you weren't working too hard.”

“I thought as much,” Athos mumbled. Honestly, they were paid to work, it was their job. Porthos needed to realise that they had to...

Athos' grumpy thoughts were cut off abruptly by Aramis kissing him again. This time it was accompanied by a happy moan and gentle fingers slipping into his hair. Athos closed his eyes and keenly returned the kiss. 

At some stage Aramis moved backwards onto the bed and Athos was dragged down with him. Athos found himself lying on a warm squirming body and only pulled his lips away so he could gaze down at the view beneath him. Aramis was smiling up at him, looking delightfully handsome as always. His facial hair had been gradually growing and now it was no longer just stubble but was half-way to becoming a proper moustache and beard. Athos quite liked it, it made Aramis look older and a bit more rugged, but still just as beautiful. 

He reached up and stroked his fingers slowly over Aramis' cheek and then across his jawline, stroking the hairs gently.

“Are you growing it?” he asked. 

“Maybe,” Aramis whispered. “I wasn't allowed to before.”

Athos didn't question why Aramis wouldn't be allowed to grow his facial hair and smiled instead. “I like it. It suits you.”

That made Aramis grin and soon arms were being flung enthusiastically around Athos' neck and he was tugged down for another kiss.


	39. The Right Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [I'm on tumblr as stardust-009. Although I don't post very much, I mostly just stalk everyone else.]

Athos told d'Artagnan absolutely everything on the way to the prison; from Aramis' confession to finding Marsac's name in the reports and then the visit with the Bishop. D'Artagnan listened patiently the entire time until Athos had finished and he was able to ask his first question.

“What are you hoping we'll get from this meeting?” 

“A confession would be nice but unlikely,” Athos shared. “I suppose I just want to scare him, I want him to know that we're still investigating. And, if we do manage to convict one of these men, we could potentially add a lot more time to his sentence as well, I want him to know that.”

“That's true. If you find enough evidence that he sexually exploited children he could spend the rest of his life in jail.”

“Exactly. Perhaps the thought of that will force him into being helpful. We could give him the impression that the judge might look on him more favourably if the judge knows he helped us catch the other men involved.”

Vincent was previously being held at the La Santé prison but, with renovation work going on in that jail after a damning report on its condition, the prisoners there had been shoe-horned in to other facilities around the country which was why Athos found himself driving to Fleury-Merogis, Europe's largest prison. Athos was secretly relieved that Vincent had been moved as he had always hated La Santé; it was claustrophobic, grim and dirty. Not that Fleury-Merogis was much better, Athos had to always avoid looking at the piles of rubbish which had built up at the bottom of the intimidating concrete buildings, there as a result of the prisoners throwing items out of the their windows. But, once inside, despite the sheer size of the place, it at least always seemed clean and well-organised to Athos' outsider eyes.

Once they had arrived they were both led through a few metal doors before being ushered into an empty interview room with no windows.

“Every time I come to one of these places it makes me glad that I decided to be on the right side of the law,” d'Artagnan said and appeared to physically shiver as he pulled back one of the plastic chairs to sit himself down.

“Was there ever any doubt?” Athos asked, deciding to stand for the time-being because he felt too apprehensive to settle.

D'Artagnan offered up a cheeky grin. “I was a very naughty teenager.”

Athos smiled, he could imagine that d'Artagnan probably was quite cheeky in his time, although he suspected that the young man didn't have a malicious bone in his body.

As the minutes ticked by and they were both forced to wait, Athos grew increasingly anxious. He could feel his heart thumping hard in his chest. He didn't want to meet Vincent, not really. He wasn't remotely curious about the man who had abused Aramis as a child. But he knew that he had to be there because he had to find out about the other men. Meeting Vincent was a means to an end.

When the thick door did finally open, a man wearing a light blue prison outfit was brought into the room followed by a hefty prison guard. Whilst the man's wrists were restricted by hand-cuffs, his feet were free to take long strides over to the table. Athos reminded himself of what Father Vincent had looked like in the papers around the time of his arrest and then examined the man in front of him now. There was more grey in his black beard and his face was thinner but there was no doubting that it was the same man; he had the same dark eyes and the same cold expression. So this was him, this was the man who had destroyed Aramis' childhood.

Vincent was guided into the chair by the prison guard who had taken hold of his arm. Vincent fell into the chair and the guard stepped away.

“I'll be outside the door,” the guard told them. “Panic alarm on the wall over there, or just yell.”

Athos briefly glanced over to the green panic alarm and then nodded to show that he understood. He didn't have any reason to believe that Vincent would be violent but prison could change a man so knowing where the alarm was did provide some comfort. The prison guard left the three of them in the room and there was an immediate silence. Vincent appeared to be studying each of them in turn, starting at them both intently until Athos felt so uncomfortable that he had to break the tension.

“I'm Detective Sergeant de la Fere and this is Detective Constable d'Artagnan. We've come to ask you a few questions.”

“Do I need my lawyer?” Vincent asked, his voice was deep and gruff.

“I guess we'll find out,” Athos responded and then finally walked over to the table and sat down beside d'Artagnan on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs which dug into all the wrong places.

“I'm not going to beat around the bush,” Athos begun. “I'm investigating your case again because I believe that there were other men involved and that you were taking children to meet these other men.”

Athos paused to study Vincent's reaction. Only he didn't react at all, he just stared at Athos impassively so Athos had no choice but to eventually continue.

“I'm gathering evidence which I could use against you. But you're already here and it's not you I'm really after, it's the other men. I wanted to give you the chance to confess.”

Once again Athos gave Vincent the space to react but the man didn't. He just sniffed and then continued to stare, his gaze turning and then lingering on d'Artagnan. Athos found it unnerving but he made a conscious decision not to let that show.

“Hmm guess you must like it here then,” d'Artagnan spoke up. “Because you obviously want to be here for longer. How does the rest of your life sound? I suppose you have a small, hard, single bed to sleep on. Sloppy processed food three times a day. Other men who probably want to shank you because of what you're in here for...what more can a man want? Oh, apart from freedom, independence, privacy...”

Vincent's expression changed when d'Artagnan began to speak, if softened. Not the reaction Athos would have expected but when a smirk appeared on his face Athos realised that Vincent was amused by d'Artangnan in some way.

“You're probably excited about the work going on at La Santé prison, aren't you?” D'Artagnan continued and Athos decided to leave him to it for the time-being because at least he was getting something. “When you go back they might have new toilet blocks. Which, I suppose if you're going to be spending the rest of your entire life in jail, it's those sorts of things which can really make a difference. Or you might have new paint on the walls of your room. Which, again, must be really exciting when those four walls are all you have to look at from now on.”

“I've already served over half of my sentence,” came the voice of Vincent at last, obviously feeling the need to correct d'Artagnan on the matter.

“Oh, I was talking about after we slap the charge of sexual exploitation of children onto your sentence. Yeah, you'll be in jail for a very long time if we do that,” d'Artagnan pointed out casually. “A very, very long time.”

The smirk on Vincent's face grew wider and he snorted like he didn't believe what d'Artagnan was saying.

“If you help us,” Athos intervened. “We'll make sure that the judge is told.”

As much as he hated the thought of doing any sort of 'deal' with Vincent just adding to his sentence at all would be a bonus but getting the two other men, stopping those men from hurting any other children, was what Athos really wanted.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” came the defiant statement from Vincent who probably would have folded his arms if his wrists weren't hand-cuffed together.

“Then let me enlighten you,” Athos said and leaned forward to rest his elbows onto the table. “You took some of the boys to an apartment where two men were waiting. You let those two men abuse the boys. But you only did it a couple of times with each boy before selecting a new one. Why? Were you afraid of the boys knowing too much and telling? Except those boys were too scared to tell, weren't they? But you stopped at some point. Your most recent victims didn't mention any other men. Did you all fall-out? And now you're in here and they're still out there.”

Vincent appeared to remain collected but he was watching Athos and clearly listening to every word he was saying.

“Who were the men, Vincent? They got away whilst you're locked up in here. Doesn't that make you feel angry? Doesn't that feel unfair to you?”

Athos stopped it there. He had said enough and he wasn't getting even a blink from Vincent. He turned his head to look at d'Artagnan who wasn't hiding his frustrations quite as well and wore a telling frown. Still they both waited for a couple of minutes but were greeted only with further silence.

“We're going to find out who the men are eventually,” d'Artagnan threatened. “And we'll tell them that you helped us. But we'll tell that judge that you didn't. Life will suddenly become even less pleasant for you.”

Athos didn't mind d'Artagnan's mild threat but, once again, Vincent turned to look at the younger man and smirked. 

“I would like my lawyer to be present.”

And that was that. Athos knew that they couldn't do anything more without getting into trouble and Athos always played by the rules. Vincent was shutting them down and giving them nothing.

“Fine,” he growled. “We'll talk to you again, with your lawyer.”

“Please do,” Vincent said, turning back to Athos, his sneer disappearing. “And make sure you bring him with you. He's a feisty one, I like him.”

Athos knew that Vincent was just trying to wind d'Artagnan up and he hoped that d'Artagnan wouldn't rise to the challenge. Thankfully d'Artagnan somehow managed to control himself and didn't say a word. Vincent, upon realising he was getting nothing as a reward for his comment, shouted for the guard and the door opened. Athos watched as Vincent was taken away leaving them once again in an empty room. 

D'Artagnan sighed and slumped forward, putting his head into his hands.

“I'm so sorry. Did I fuck up? I'm sorry. I wanted to make him feel uncomfortable....god he didn't say a thing, did he? We came here for nothing...”

“You were perfect,” Athos interrupted as he stood up.

“I..I was?” d'Artagnan questioned.

“Yes,” Athos smiled down at the young man. “The purpose was spook him and we've done just that. He'll go away and think about it now, maybe panic a little. And, because of you, he'll probably be fine about seeing us again. He finds you amusing, that's helpful.”

“I didn't really mean to be amusing,” d'Artagnan mumbled as he got up and they made their way out of the room.

“You weren't actually amusing,” Athos reassured him as they walked down the hallway. “He just said because he knew it would annoy you and he wanted to wind you up. The fact you look young might have had something to do with it.”

Athos saw d'Artagnan grimace out of the corner of his eye. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?”

“No,” Athos assured him, having a feeling he knew that d'Artagnan was thinking. “I'm not saying he's attracted to you. You're ten years too old for that. But men like him get a power trip from controlling those younger and more vulnerable. He barely reacted to me, but he did to you and that's helpful. We'll arrange another meeting with him with his lawyer present. But first we'll give him time to stew on things.”

“It's a shame you can't interview Marsac,” d'Artagnan pointed out as they waited by the locked door at the end of the corridor to be let through. The suggestion surprised Athos who turned to look at the detective.

“What?”

“He went to the police all that time ago, back when he was a damaged teenager...he wanted to tell someone. But then he got scared and changed his mind. It's a shame you can't question him about it again because maybe he'll give you a statement and you'll find out more about the two men. But I know you can't speak to him right now, not until his trial is over. I guess it's not long until the trial now though?” 

“Just a few weeks but...yes...” Athos quickly processed the suggestion. “Yes, he's not like Aramis. Aramis is still that little boy deep down desperately seeking attention and love but Marsac isn't; Marsac is angry, violent and resentful. You're right, why wouldn't Marsac give us a statement? What would he have to lose? He'd want the men punished for what they did to him.”

“Well he might not give _you_ a statement, _you_ got him locked up but he might talk to me and Constance. Why not let us try? Once the trial is over...we'll go and talk to him.”

Athos immediately reached out and gave d'Artagnan a pat on the shoulder.

“D'Artagnan, you are a very good detective.”

D'Artagnan beamed.

Athos didn't even get the chance to process the fact he had just met the man who had abused Aramis because was running late for their weekly meeting with Ninon and he hated being late. He was almost on full-blown panic mode by the time he reached her door but he forced himself to take a moment just to pause outside and collect himself. When he did eventually open the door he was greeted by the warm smile of Ninon followed by two relieved faces turning to look at him.

“Athos!” Aramis cried, his voice full of joy. 

“I'm so sorry that I'm late.”

“Not a problem at all, Athos,” Ninon reassured him. “Although I'm afraid we did have to start without you. Take a seat and we'll fill you in.”

Athos sat down next to Porthos who immediately reached out and gave Athos' arm a reassuring squeeze. It was only Porthos who knew where Athos had been and Athos suspected that Porthos' head was full of questions but those would have to wait because they were with Ninon now and their focus had to be on that.

“Aramis has been telling me all about the apartment and signing the papers and how exciting that was and Porthos filled us in a little about how you might be feeling about it but, now you're here, perhaps you can tell us yourself?”

Athos looked at Ninon somewhat confused at having entered the conversation clearly in the middle of it. “My feelings about...moving?”

Ninon nodded. “Yes. How do you feel about moving?”

“Fine,” Athos said automatically without really thinking about it.

He could have sworn that he saw a flicker of disappointment in Ninon's eyes before she smiled at Porthos.

“Porthos, why don't you share your idea? Let's see what Athos thinks about it.”

Porthos shifted in his seat a little to turn and look at Athos.

“Well I've been thinking about it all because I know how important it is to you to have certain things in order like your wardrobe and the shoes and coats in the hallway and your books. So I've been worried about the fact that, when we move in, everything will be chaotic and in boxes and I know you'll find that really difficult. So I was thinking that, maybe once we've moved in, Aramis and I could give you some time to yourself to unpack your stuff and we'll leave you alone, for a couple of days if you need it. So you can take your time with it and put things where you need them to be before we sort out everything else. And we can all stay in a hotel until you feel like the apartment is ready to move into.”

Athos was somewhat stunned. He was astonished that Porthos had even taken the time to consider how the moving would be for Athos and even more stunned about the fact Porthos' idea sounded like the most perfect idea in the world.

“I...” he tried to think of something to say because he knew that he should say something. “...thank you.”

“Do you think that would be helpful?” Ninon asked, prompting him.

Athos nodded. He had been anxious about the move. He had been trying to hide it and pretend that he was happy, for Aramis' sake more than anything, but the thought had been filling him with dread. Only Porthos' idea had taken away some of his anxiety. In fact just knowing that Porthos had been thinking of him made him feel better. He would make sure that he thanked Porthos later...privately.

“Good,” Ninon smiled. “Well you all moving into this new house together is a big-step. Does anyone have any other feelings about it?”

Something occurred to Athos in that moment; he had to talk to Aramis about Marsac, today. Why not do it now? Athos always seemed to mess things up when he talked to Aramis on his own but they weren't alone right now, they were with Porthos and Ninon, the two best people to help in the situation. So, whilst he knew that it was nothing to do with moving or the new house or any of that, it felt more important. 

“Actually,” he began. “There's something I really need to talk to Aramis about and this appears to be a good opportunity.”

Ninon raised her eyebrow but told him to go ahead. So Athos twisted in his chair to to face Aramis better. Aramis was sitting close to the wall on the other side of Porthos. He was now giving Athos his full attention, clearly curious.

“Aramis...” Athos suddenly wished that he had planned what to say but he finally had his chance to talk about it so he just went ahead. “...Marsac is in jail at the moment whilst he's waiting for his trial. But, very soon, he'll actually have his trial where a judge and jury will decide if he's guilty or not guilty of his crimes. If he's found guilty then the judge will give him a proper sentence. The problem is that someone who was going to be key to the trial has run away. So...we need your help. We need you to go to court and answer a few questions, that's all. You'll just be asked about Marsac running the brothels and what happened that night he attacked you. You won't need to do anything else, you just have to be honest.”

Aramis was staring at him blankly at first which meant that Athos wasn't completely sure if Aramis had understood any of what he was saying. He was just about to try and explain it again when Aramis spoke quietly. 

“I don't want to answer any questions.”

“I know.” Athos wanted to downplay the gravity of the situation if he could. He didn't want to freak Aramis out. “I know it won't be easy but we'll help you practice and we'll be there in the room. You won't be on your own, we'll be right there.”

“I don't understand,” Aramis admitted. “Marsac is already in jail. I know he is because I saw him there. You and I went to see him.”

“Yeah...” Porthos began. Athos knew that Porthos probably would have preferred a little warning before the conversation came up but Athos had made the decision now so they had to run with it. “...he is in jail. That happens when a judge considers someone dangerous, a flight risk or the person can't or refuses to pay the bail money. But that doesn't matter. Do you understand what Athos is saying? He's only in there until his trial. At this trial the judge will decide how long he stays there for but he needs to be found guilty.”

They couldn't seem to relieve Aramis of his bemusement. He stared at them both in turn before speaking again.

“But I helped you before. I did it, even though I was scared. And you said you'd make sure that he'd be locked away so he wouldn't hurt himself or hurt other people anymore. You said that and you did that. I already helped you and now you're telling me I have to help you again?”

Athos wasn't sure what to say so he just shrugged and said, “Yes, I'm afraid so.”

Thankfully Ninon interrupted the conversation. “Aramis, I can see this is a shock so just take your time, okay? Ask all the questions you need to ask, we'll all listen and try to answer them.”

Aramis nodded but Athos could tell that he was getting upset. His eyes were beginning to glisten with tears which he appeared to be attempting to hold back. 

“I don't want to ask anything,” he said, his voice losing its steadiness. “I just can't do it.”

“And that's perfectly fine and no-one is going to make you,” Ninon assured him but that wasn't what Athos wanted her to say. He frowned momentarily before leaning forward in his chair towards Aramis.

“But if the case falls through and he's found not guilty you know what that means don't you?” Athos asked.

“Yes,” Aramis nodded and didn't offer any more than that. He just looked away and used his sleeve to rub away the tears in his eyes, leaving Athos none the wiser to if Aramis really understood or not.

“Like Ninon said, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do,” Porthos attempted to reassure him. Porthos even reached out to place his hand on Aramis' leg, Athos was relieved that Aramis seemed to accept the touch and didn't push the hand away. “And you don't have to decide what you want to do this minute either. You can think about it for a while, okay? But, whatever you decide, it won't change anything between the three of us. I wanna make sure you know that.”

Aramis gave one nod but didn't appear to be any happier, in fact he now was avoiding their gaze, just starting at something across the room and Athos had a sense that they had lost him and there wasn't much point in continuing to have the conversation. Aramis had already decided he didn't want to help and Athos had no-idea what other thoughts were going on in his mind right now but trying to drag it out of him was only going to cause more upset. Even Athos knew that because Athos had upset Aramis enough to know how he reacted, he shut down and then needed comfort. It was time to give Aramis some comfort.

“We're going home,” he announced and stood up. The move made Porthos suddenly look up at him in surprise but it wasn't Porthos that Athos was looking at it, it was Ninon. He felt bad. He had ruined their session but he really just wanted to get Aramis home.

“I'm sorry for what just happened,” he told Ninon who appeared to be her usual calm self despite the situation.

“Athos, it's fine. You wanted to talk to Aramis about something important and that's what this space is for but I don't think you should leave right now. Why don't you sit back down?”

Athos didn't want to sit back down. He wanted to take Aramis home and hold him until Aramis could forgive them once more and everything would be normal again. That's what Athos wanted, desperately, but Ninon was asking him to sit down and the other two hadn't moved so Athos found himself at a loss as to what to do. 

That was until a hand touched his own and tugged gently. Athos glanced down at Porthos' arm. Porthos wanted to stay and he was encouraging Athos to do the same. Porthos, the man who hadn't even wanted to see Ninon in the first place, wanted to stay. Athos admitted defeat and sat back in his chair feeling deflated. There he was greeted with the same hand reaching over and giving his shoulder a squeeze but it wasn't enough, his hands felt grimy and dirty. He needed to wash his hands but he couldn't in that moment so he began to rub them together.

“You're probably angry with us,” Porthos said calmly as he continued to touch Athos but he turned to his other side where Aramis was still sitting. “And I get that. We said that we'd lock Marsac up and we haven't done that yet. There's still a chance he might be let out, despite everything you did for us, hell you even put your life on the line. I bet you even think we lied to you, I understand that as well. I know you're angry and confused and you have every right to be. I'm really sorry that we made you feel that way.”

The tension Athos felt lifted a little. He was still gripping his hands together, he still needed to wash but his desire to run away was no longer so prevalent. Porthos had apologised for both of them, he just hoped that Aramis would accept it . Aramis, however, didn't say anything and it was Ninon who spoke next.

“Is that how you feel, Aramis? Do you feel angry with them?”

Aramis appeared to make some movement which Athos could barely see from his position as Porthos was in the way so he watched Ninon instead and waited for her reaction.

“No? Then how do you feel?”

“Sad,” came the tentative response.

“Sad? Why do you feel sad?”

“Because I like being with Athos and Porthos.”

Ninon tilted her head to the side and Athos leaned forward in his seat, needing to see Aramis, wondering why Aramis would say such a thing.

“And this changes that?” Ninon asked, sounding far more in control than Athos felt. Athos' breathing was speeding up. Did Aramis want to leave? Was Aramis so angry that he couldn't be with them anymore? 

Aramis nodded. “If Marsac comes out of jail it does.”

Athos rubbed his hands furiously in his lap again, he couldn't slow his breathing down either.

“What do you mean, Aramis?” Ninon's voice was so calm in the cloud of anxiety which was building up inside Athos' head and he tried to focus on that.

“Because I'll have to go back to him.”

“Like fuck you will!” Porthos suddenly blurted out. “Like fuck! You're not going back to him, ever. You hear me? We love you and you're staying with us if that's what you want. No-one is going to use you anymore, ever. No-one is going to hurt you ever again either, especially not that prick. You're staying with us whatever happens.”

Finally Aramis' head snapped around and he stared at Porthos like he couldn't believe Porthos would say such a thing.

“R-really?”

“Course, you idiot,” was the honest if somewhat blunt response from Porthos. 

Aramis' lips began to curl up into a smile but it never quite made it across his face. “But....but...” The smile sunk away. “...even if I can't do it? Even if I can't answer the questions?”

“It doesn't matter,” Porthos promised and let go of Athos to turn completely to face Aramis. “None of that matters. You're scared, I get that. And standing up in a court answering questions about stuff you don't want to talk about sounds terrifying to you, I get that as well. None of that matters. We want you with us like we've told you before. You definitely won't have to go back to Marsac, even if you can't go to court and he gets let out. I promise. You can always live with us.”

Aramis leaned forward and Porthos opened up his arms to embrace him over the arms of their chairs. Athos could see Aramis closing his eyes and nuzzling his cheek against Porthos' shoulder.

“That's all I want,” Aramis whispered against Porthos and now Athos was rubbing his hands, not because he was about to have a panic attack but because everything was okay again, everything was alright thanks to Porthos and he felt so relieved that it was almost overwhelming.

“I think Athos is about to pass out,” came a comment and Athos realised that his mind had drifted off but Aramis was now staring at him with wide eyes. Porthos suddenly pulled away from the embrace and twisted around.

“You alright, love? Are you breathing?”

Athos nodded. Was he breathing? He wasn't entirely sure.

“Athos, take some deep breaths,” a female voice told him and then the noise of a chair being scrapped back made a shiver go down his spine. Athos rocked himself slowly and rubbed at his fingers. Breathing, yes breathing was good. It wasn't long before Ninon appeared right in front of him, kneeling down with a brown paper bag in her hand.

“You need this?” she asked which made Athos shake his head. 

“No I'm fine,” he promised, so he was breathing after all, he could speak at least. “Sorry, just overwhelmed.”

Porthos appeared to chuckle. “Yeah, emotions huh? Damn things. But look, Aramis understands the situation and now it's up to him to decide what he wants to do. It's done. We can't do anything else, okay? Nothing to worry about.”

Athos wanted to protest and point out that he wasn't worried, he was relieved. Relieved that what appeared to be turning into an utter disaster had been turned around thanks to his wonderful boyfriend but Athos was unable to express that all out-loud so instead he just had one thing to say...

“I really need to wash. Can we all go home?”

Ninon smiled. “Of course. I think that's a good idea.”


	40. The Phone-call

Aramis had grabbed hold of Athos' hand the second they were in the car-park and then refused to let go which meant that Athos had to sit in the back of the car with him. Athos wasn't sure if Aramis was seeking comfort for himself or if he was offering it to Athos, but Athos certainly didn't complain. Not only did it stop him from rubbing his hands together until they were sore but also having Aramis gripping onto his hand gave him a constant reassurance that they hadn't pushed Aramis away; he was still there. When Porthos parked up on the street outside their house Aramis still didn't appear to be very keen to let go of Athos' hand so they all sat there in silence for a couple of minutes until the need Athos had to wash the grim off from the last few hours began to feel very prominent.

“We need to get out of the car at some point,” he said to Aramis who was staring out of the window. Aramis suddenly turned to him as if hearing a voice had surprised him which caused Athos to wonder where Aramis' mind had been and what he had been thinking about. Then Athos got a sheepish smile from the other man before his hand was finally freed.

Athos eventually found himself alone in the bathroom with Porthos. Athos stood there as Porthos turned the shower on and helped him undress. Athos lifted his legs and arms at the appropriate moments until he was down to his underwear, a familiar practice in their relationship now. Athos could have actually done it for himself this time as he was not in the throws of a panic attack but he suspected that Porthos liked to do it.

“I want to ask what happened this morning but best we wait until we're alone in the house, yeah?” Porthos asked but then appeared to answer his own question. “Aramis has work this evening, you can fill me in then.”

“Not much happened to be honest, but I will,” Athos responded before Porthos stepped forward and closed the gap between the pair of them. His eyes studied Athos' face before he brushed back a strand of hair away from Athos' forehead.

“I'll go and get you some clean clothes. Do you need me to stay?”

Athos would have liked Porthos to stay but he knew that Aramis was downstairs at the moment and quite possibly in need of a little Porthos time himself so Athos chose not be selfish.

“No, go and be with Aramis,” he suggested. “I'll be down in a few minutes.”

He was rewarded with a tender kiss to the forehead and then Porthos was gone. Athos immediately missed his presence but knew that he only had himself to blame. He cursed his OCD and not for the first time but then just accepted that it just was what it was and he slipped out of his underwear before stepping into the shower. There he closed his eyes and drenched himself underneath the hot water. Once the soap was being massaged into his skin, he began to feel a lot better, a lot cleaner, his skin no longer felt as suffocating.

It took Athos a little longer than planned to wash the feeling of the prison off his body but he eventually got there. Stepping out of the shower he dried himself and got dressed in the clean trousers and sweater which Porthos had left out for him. Then he combed his hair in the mirror and carefully went over events in his head. So they had asked Aramis to testify and Aramis said that he wouldn't do it. There wasn't much more Athos could do. He had asked, Aramis understood what was being asked of him and had already made a decision. And, whilst Athos wasn't particularly looking forward to having to tell the lawyer the following day, he also knew that it was his job to defend Aramis' decision whatever it was. Because he loved Aramis and he would defend Aramis when it came to anything.

He loved Aramis...the thought made him smile at himself in the mirror. He really did and thinking about it just made him want to go and see both of the men he loved right away. So he put down his comb, turned the bathroom light on and off five times, then went down the stairs to find both of the men in the kitchen seemingly making lunch. When Athos came into the kitchen Porthos noticed him first and reached out to tap Aramis on the shoulder.

“There he is, see. He's fine.”

Aramis' head quickly darted around to look at Athos, his face was full of concern. He took a step forward and Athos wondered if he was coming over but then Aramis seemed to hesitate and ended up remaining where he was, much to Athos' disappointment.

“Aramis is worried that we're angry at him,” Porthos explained, holding the knife he had been chopping tomatoes with in his hand.

Athos looked from Porthos back to Aramis.

“No,” he said immediately. “Not in the slightest. Aramis, no-one is angry at you.” And he really meant it. He wanted Aramis to testify, desperately, but he completely understood why Aramis was terrified by the very idea of it and had refused.

“Exactly,” Porthos nodded and turned back around again to continue making lunch. “That's what I told him. In fact I said we were both proud of him for being honest and telling us the truth 'bout how he felt.”

“Yes, indeed,” Athos said. Proud, yes, frustrated, yes, but none of it changed his feelings about Aramis. Aramis appeared to take a small step forward again but then didn't go any further. He's unsure, Athos realised, he wants to come over but he's not sure if he should.

“It's okay,” Athos immediately encouraged and opened up his arms a little. That was all Aramis needed, it appeared, as he then raced over and almost threw himself against Athos. Thankfully Athos was prepared for the weight against his body and just about managed to stay upright as he wrapped his arms around Aramis' warm body and gave him a squeeze.

“I don't want to go back to work, I want to stay with you,” came a small voice whispering into his ear. The choice of wording puzzled Athos momentarily. Back to work? Aramis hadn't been at the restaurant for a couple of days. He wondered if it was just a phrase Aramis was used to repeating, probably to Marsac. 'Please don't make me go back there, I want to stay here with you.' Bloody Marsac.

“You can do whatever you wish,” Athos promised, not wishing to get into the roundabout conversations they had with Aramis about working in the restaurant. If Aramis really didn't want to work there then Athos didn't see the point of forcing him. But then Athos remembered how happy Aramis was when he got back home after his shifts and reminded himself that Aramis just didn't have a lot of confidence in himself. “But you like it at the restaurant and they seem to like having you there, so see how you feel later. You can spend the afternoon with us in the meantime.”

Aramis rather abruptly pulled away his face away from where it had been nuzzled up against Athos' neck but only to kiss Athos fiercely. It was a bit of a shock but Athos closed his eyes and accepted the kiss. It was too rough to be anything apart from Aramis desperately testing if he was still wanted, seeking out the answer to the question which he always found so difficult to ask. Athos didn't push him away or tell him off, he opened his mouth and attempted to move his lips in rhythm to Aramis' but mostly he just submitted until Aramis pulled away panting. Aramis stared at him then as if he was waiting for a reaction. Athos wasn't sure how he was meant to respond so he just smiled a little, hoping he was conveying his affection for the man in front of him with that smile. It appeared to work with because the relief on Aramis' face was palpable.

“He went in then?” Athos asked some hours later once Aramis had successfully been dropped off at work. His mood had continued to improved as the afternoon went on and they eventually did manage to convince him to go to the restaurant.

“Yeah, he was alright.”

Porthos went over to sit on the sofa-bed to pet Frodo whilst Athos sat at a safe-distance from the dog in the armchair. He pressed the mute button on the TV remote because he knew that Porthos would want to find out what had happened with Vincent.

“I wish I had better news but I'm afraid he barely said anything,” Athos explained before Porthos even had to bother asking. “He just said that he didn't know what we were talking about and then told us he wanted his lawyer present. He tried to wind d'Artagnan up and that was about it. I told d'Artagnan we'll let him stew on things for a couple of weeks and then go back for another visit. I don't think we'll get much from him though. Still, it was worth a try.”

Porthos nodded solemnly. “I don't know how you stopped yourself from strangling him. He could be out soon, you know? And if Marsac's trial doesn't go well, they could both be free men in a few short years. I don't know how Aramis is gonna cope with that.”

“Aramis doesn't need to know about Vincent,” Athos pointed out. “We should just encourage Aramis to focus on us and the life we're all building together....I do wish he would testify though.” Athos sighed and rubbed his fingers against the side of his temple, he saw no harm in letting his feelings known with only Porthos present.

“I know but, Athos, please don't keep talking to him about it. I don't want him to do it to please you. It needs to be his decision. Promise me you won't bring it up unless he does.”

Athos stared across at Porthos for a moment as it wasn't a promise he was best pleased about making but he found himself nodding in agreement anyway and then immediately felt bad for nodding when he wasn't entirely sure that he meant it. A new direction with the subject was suddenly required.

“Porthos, you were amazing earlier today with Ninon. I don't know what would have happened if you weren't there.”

“I spend my days worrying about what would happen to you two if I wasn't around, so let's not think about it.” Porthos stood up and came over to Athos. “I'm really proud of you by the way. All of this change, everything with Aramis...I know it's not easy but you've been coping really well with it all. Although there's about five piles of washing which needing to be done and most of it is yours, so you'd best come and help me.” Porthos leaned forward to kiss Athos on the forehead and Athos did as he was told.

Once the washing-machine was on and the dishes were done, they had settled down to watch some television when Porthos' phone began to ring.

“Aramis? Oh, yeah speaking....oh hi...can I...sure. Is he okay?...What happened?...Alright, I'll be right there.”

Athos was sitting bolt up-right by the time Porthos had finished the conversation and one immediate thought came to his head.

"Has Aramis had a fit?”

“No but something has happened, that was Tara. She says he's fine but can we came and get him. I'm gonna go down, wanna come?”

Athos absolutely wanted to go and then spent the entire journey coming up with all sorts of worst case scenarios despite the fact Tara had told Porthos that Aramis was fine. He kept them to himself though and didn't share them with Porthos as Porthos was driving too fast as it was. 

When they got into the restaurant the place was busy and they couldn't spot Tara or Aramis but Tara eventually appeared and came over.

“He's out the back,” she explained and they followed her through the restaurant.

“What happened?” Porthos asked as soon as they had left the main room and entered a corridor.

“I don't know to be honest,” Tara slowed down her walk and looked over her shoulder at them. “We had this raucous group of guys in the restaurant and I don't know what happened but at some point one of the guys disappeared and so did Aramis. The next thing I know one of kitchen-staff came to find me and said that Aramis is out the back with that bloke and they were...well...by the time I got out there another chef from the kitchen was yelling at the customer who was yelling back and it all got a bit out of hand...” Tara sighed and stopped walking altogether.

“...look, I know about Aramis' past, we all do, but he can't just disappear with a customer like that when he's meant to be working. I tried to explain that to him but he got upset and now he thinks that he's going to lose his job. I couldn't get him to calm down so I suggested that he go home and that's why I called you.”

“What exactly was he doing with the guy?” Athos asked. God he didn't want to know, anger and jealousy was building up inside of him in equal measures but there was a part of him that needed to know.

“I don't know,” Tara shrugged. “It had all stopped by the time I got out there. Me and the chef told the customer to leave but he marched back into the restaurant, yelled something about the shit service and left with his friends. They didn't pay for any of their food either, the fuckers.”

“We'll pay for the food,” Porthos said quietly, he was staring down at the floor, looking deeply upset from what Athos could tell in the dim light of the corridor.

“What?” Tara shook her head. “God no, don't worry about that. They were arseholes. I just want to make sure Aramis is okay. I feel bad for telling him off but I had to.”

“Of course you did,” Athos said, wanting to reassure her. “He can't behave like that, you're absolutely right.”

Tara nodded but couldn't quite lose the worry from her expression. "He's in the office, this way.” 

They followed her further down the corridor until they reached a door. Tara knocked and then slowly opened it, peeking inside.

“Hey, Aramis, your two friends are here to take you home, okay?”

She stepped to the side but left the door open for them.

“There's a leaving party tomorrow, I know everyone would love him to be there if he still wants to come. Reassure him that no-body apart from me and the two kitchen staff are ever gonna know what happened and we all care about him, okay?”

“Thank you,” Athos said but was desperate to get into the room. Tara eventually left them and Athos dashed in first, Porthos followed closely behind. Aramis was sitting on an office chair and immediately looked up when they came in, his eyes wide.

“Are you alright?” Athos asked as it seemed to be the obvious thing to check first. Aramis immediately nodded but remained looking terrified. Athos, despite not knowing the condition of the floor, knelt down to get to closer Aramis' height.

“Are you really alright?” he asked again to check, reaching out to squeeze Aramis' hand. Aramis had been there for him earlier, it felt like a good time to repay the favour. “What happened?”

“I forgot.”

“What did you forget?”

“That I don't have to do things if I don't want to anymore. You told me...but I forgot.”

“You didn't want to do it?” Porthos asked from behind somewhere.

“I...no, I...not really. I mean it's my fault, I should have said no when he asked but I didn't. Then that man from the kitchen came out and started yelling. Then Tara told me I'd been bad...when I thought I was being good because I was making the man happy...”

“Aramis,” Porthos interrupted to cut him off. “What did you do with him?”

“We didn't get the chance to do anything, the chef came out and got angry at him because he saw the man push me against the wall, then they both started yelling at each other.”

Athos didn't like the sound of that at all. "He pushed you against a wall?”

“Yeah, to kiss me.”

Athos sighed. The office wasn't the place to talk to Aramis about it and he could almost physically sense Porthos' fury coming from behind. He needed to get everyone home. So he stood up and tried not to think about the dust on his knee.

“Come on, we'll talk more at home.”

Nothing was said in the car and, by the time they got home, Porthos didn't appear to be any calmer. They all walked into the house but Athos had to stay in the hallway to sort out the shoes and coats before he could do anything else.

“I didn't do it for money,” he heard Aramis protesting from the living-room. “I know I'm not meant to do that.”

“For fucks sake, Aramis,” Porthos grumbled and Athos rushed his shoe-sorting in order to get in there as fast as possible.

“Please don't be mad at me,” Aramis said. Athos soon discovered that he was sitting down on the edge of the sofa-bed and ignoring Frodo who was nuzzling up against his leg.

“I'm not mad at you,” Porthos said. “Well I am but I'm trying not to be. I just love you and I don't want you just to...give yourself away to people like that anymore. I know you think you need to please people but you don't, you really don't.”

Aramis nodded up at Porthos but it was one of those moments when Athos had no-idea if Aramis actually understood or not.

“Listen,” Porthos paused for a moment, obviously thinking about what he wanted to say. "There's more to it as well. All relationships work differently but Athos and I have the sort of relationship where we don't have sex with other people. We're faithful to each other. Or at least we were before you came along. Now I know you've probably not come across a lot of people like us in your life with the...business you were in. You probably saw the worst in people and the worst of relationships. But you see...”

Porthos sighed and appeared to be struggling so Athos stepped closer and put a supportive hand on Porthos' back. It made Porthos jump but, when he realised it was Athos, he turned and smiled and was obviously spurred on by the encouragement.

“...well I felt jealous when I heard that you'd gone off with this random bloke. That's why I'm mad. I'm not mad at you though, I'm just...yeah jealous I guess. I want you to only have sex with us but I know I can't ask that of you. You've got to decide if that's the sort of relationship _you_ want.”

Athos turned to look at Aramis who seemed rather small sitting on the sofa-bed as they both stood over him, so Athos decided to change the physical dynamics and went over to the bed to sit down as well. He didn't sit right next to Aramis but close enough so that Aramis could reach over touch him if he needed to.

“But we hardly ever have sex,” was Aramis' confused response.

“Aramis,” Athos intervened. “...how often do you think that everyday, average couples have sex in...a week?”

“A week?!” Aramis reacted like that was a huge question. Then he stared up at the ceiling and appeared to be trying to work it out. “I don't know...that would be a lot.”

Clearly the question was too much for Aramis, so Athos decided to help out. “Alright, how about a day then?”

“A day...well once when you wake up. Then...well depends because most people wouldn't work together like you two do, would they? You two could have sex at work I guess...”

Athos suddenly had an image of having sex on Captain Treville's desk. It was an interesting idea...

“...but say that most people don't do that...so I guess another time when both people get home, then probably again before bed and then, I don't know...maybe during the night sometimes?”

“So four times a day?” Athos asked, just to clarify.

Aramis nodded but then appeared to question himself. “Yeah...that doesn't seem very much does it? Maybe I got it wrong.”

Athos almost had a heart-attack and the shock only got worse as he worked it all out in his head. “So that's...twenty-eight times a week? You think an average couple have sex twenty-eight times a week?”

Aramis shrugged and Athos glanced over at Porthos who looked as horrified as Athos felt.

“Yeah...” Porthos began and then came over and sat himself down on the sofa-bed as well on the other side of Aramis. He turned and reached out for one of Aramis' hands. Aramis didn't seem to mind, in fact he smiled at being touched. “...maybe back in the days when we first got together and we were all over each other but, Aramis, the truth is, a lot of couples don't have sex that much. Couples with kids, it's a miracle if they have sex at all sometimes. No, mate, Athos and I probably have sex about...three of four times a week. And that's a good week.”

“Three or four times a week?!” Aramis didn't hide the astonishment in his voice. “But that...that can't be right.”

Porthos chuckled at Aramis' horror. “Yeah I'm afraid it really is. I'm not saying that's normal, every couple is different, but that's what's normal for us. Twenty-eight times a week...well that sounds bloody exhausting to be honest. Not to mention the fact we wouldn't have enough bed-sheets for Athos' OCD to cope.”

“I used to have a lot more sex than that,” Aramis pointed out and that made Porthos flinch and go quiet again. He looked down at Aramis' hand and began to stroke it tenderly with his thumb.

“I know but...that was before,” Porthos said quietly and lifted up Aramis' hand to kiss it. “Unless you want that again?”

“No, I want to stay with you two,” came the reply said very quickly and with no hesitation at all.

“Then what do you need from us?” Athos asked curiously. “Do you want us to have sex more often with you?”

Aramis began to nod but then ended up shaking his head. "Yes but...I didn't go off with the man because I wanted sex. I didn't want to have sex with him. But he was flirting with me and asked and he's a customer so I thought I should make him happy because I forgot what you said about how I shouldn't have sex with people unless I want to have sex with them.”

“Exactly, you don't have to make him 'happy'." Porthos shuffled across the bed and let go of Aramis' hand but only so that he could wrap his arm around Aramis' shoulders. “Anyway that's not how it works in restaurants. In a restaurant, if a customer gets too full-on and suggestive, you tell your manager and they kick the arsehole out. You don't have to go off and have sex with them just because they ask.”

“Oh okay,” Aramis nodded and rested his head against Porthos' shoulder. Obviously he hadn't realised that before and it made Athos wonder if they had perhaps failed Aramis by not helping him understand the world outside of street prostitution and brothels.

“And now I've lost my job.”

“No you haven't,” Porthos quickly corrected him. “You haven't lost your job at all. That's not what Tara said. In fact Tara told us to remind you about the party tomorrow and the fact everyone wants you there.”

“She wasn't very happy with me.”

“Well no...but now you know why, right? We just explained why. You can't just go off and have sex with customers in the middle of your shift. You haven't lost your job though. She knows you don't understand this stuff. She likes you, they all do. Why do you think the chef yelled at the man? He obviously thought the man was being rough with you.”

Aramis thought about it and nodded but then appeared to want to abruptly change the subject.

"Can we all sleep in the same bed tonight?”

Porthos looked over at Athos as if to gauge his reaction. Athos was grateful for Porthos checking but he found himself quickly nodding his answer. Aramis obviously needed it.

“I'm sorry I'm so bad at everything,” Aramis then added.

“Stop it,” Porthos told him. “You're not. I told you before to not say that. You're wonderful, alright? There's bound to be hiccups but we'll get through them.”

Aramis smiled and the pair of them hugged. In the next few minutes they all headed upstairs to the bedroom and the bed which was far too small for them all really but Athos had a feeling Aramis would enjoy being squashed in the middle. Athos offered to use the bathroom first as his routine took a long time. He watched himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, the timer set for two minutes because that was how long he needed to brush his teeth for. Porthos' words about how well Athos had been coping resounded in his head. In some ways he didn't feel like he had been coping very well at all, then again, apart from the odd panic attack which mostly had involved the dog, Athos hadn't felt so anxious recently despite all of the changes and all of the challenges. Perhaps he could allow himself to be cautiously optimistic that his anxiety was improving, just for a moment.

By the time Athos was done and he returned to the bedroom, he was greeted with quite a sight. Aramis was lying on top of Porthos in nothing but his black underwear and Porthos' hands were very much inside Aramis' underwear, kneading his arse cheeks. Aramis was moaning and withering on top of Porthos who also appeared to be very much lacking in the way of clothing.

Athos stood at the door frozen. He thought they were going to sleep but what the two men on the bed were doing looked like a lot more fun. It took them a while that Athos had returned but, once Porthos had, he dropped his head back onto the pillow whilst panting with arousal.

“Well get over here then,” Porthos insisted. “We have to do it twenty-eight times this week! We'd better get started.”


	41. The Happiest Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [I'm sorry that it has taken me so long to get another chapter up! And I'm sorry if the legal parts aren't correct! And I'm sorry if there are lots of story-lines going on at the same time, they will all come together!]

The following morning Athos was pleasantly woken up by warm air against his forehead and then soft lips pressing against his skin. He felt groggy but forced his tired eyes to blink open where they eventually managed to focus on Aramis. Aramis was grinning at him, his white teeth visible at least in the darkness. Athos became worried that Aramis was already ready for the second of the twenty-eight times. Porthos wasn't actually being serious about that...was he?

“Morning,” Athos croaked, curling up underneath the duvet a little more because he was quite certain that it would be cold outside the bed and he wasn't ready to face that challenge yet.

“Morning, Athos,” came the far too cheerful reply. Athos grumbled for a moment and then closed his eyes again which felt far better. Usually he was the morning person of the house but Aramis had clearly tired him out.

_Aramis' skin felt so smooth and warm beneath Athos' finger-tips. His fingers slowly trailed from Aramis' shoulder down his back, the body beneath arching under the touch. Athos eventually placed his palm down on the dip in Aramis' spine and then ran it calmly across to his hip which was rocking in a circular motion casually. Aramis was rubbing his groin up against Porthos' which was causing the man beneath him to moan in delight. The moaning was a familiar noise to Athos but Aramis, on the other hand, didn't appear to be making any noise at all and Athos felt the need to correct that._

_He studied the shape of Aramis' arse and then reached for the elastic of his underwear and began to tug it down, his hand rubbing against the curve of Aramis' arse-cheeks as they were revealed to him. Now Aramis was finally made a noise, he whimpered out a 'yes' and pushed his backside up against Athos' hand._

Athos knew that he wouldn't go back to sleep but he needed to doze. Waking up meant having a shower, having a shower meant getting dressed, getting dressed meant he'd have to go to lunch with the lawyer who wasn't going to be happy once he told her that Aramis was refusing to testify. The lawyer not being happy meant that Athos would have to start accepting the worrying fact that Marsac might not be found guilty of anything at all and that wasn't something Athos even wanted to consider, so he kept his eyes shut. 

_Athos, wanting to please Aramis and give him all of the attention, decided that there was no need for Aramis to be wearing any clothes at all. So he pushed himself up onto his knees and then tugged Aramis' underwear down entirely, until it was sliding off his legs. Aramis was then naked and lying on top of Porthos still, kissing the man below for all he was worth. Aramis had a beautiful body; his muscles weren't taut, there was a real softness to them. Athos leaned forward and kissed at a shoulder-blade as his hand continued their journey of exploration. They ended up down at Aramis' arse again because that was the area where Aramis seemed to enjoy being touched the most proven when the man whimpered again whilst Athos' finger slowly went down the cleft between his arse-cheeks. Then, as Athos deliberately ran his finger up and down to tease, Aramis began to moan. Athos turned his head to look up the bed and discovered that Aramis had stopped kissing Porthos, he was resting his head down on Porthos' shoulder. Porthos was smiling up at Athos from beneath the naked body._

_“Love, get the lube, I think he wants it.”_

“Athos?” came a whisper. It work Athos up although he wasn't entirely sure he had been fully asleep.

“Mmm?” he said, still not ready to be conscious but not wanting to ignore Aramis either.

“Just seeing if you were awake.”

Athos stopped himself from a sarcastic comment of 'I am now' because Aramis was obviously after something. Athos lifted up his arm instead, reaching out blindly for Aramis. Aramis automatically shuffled underneath the arm and then curled up against Athos' chest seemingly happy because he went quiet for a couple of minutes but the silence didn't last. 

“Athos, I need to tell you something...”

_Watching Aramis come undone just from a finger was quite something. He whimpered, thrust back, gripped onto Porthos' shoulders and generally couldn't seem to keep still._

_“Athos...” he gasped. “Yes...please...please, Athos...”_

_Porthos was half watching from his position beneath Aramis but, every time Aramis pushed his groin forward, Porthos let out a bit of a groan himself. Athos could only imagine how hard Porthos would be underneath the wiggling naked body. When Athos slipped in a second wet finger and then a third, Aramis was begging even more furiously._

_It had been a while for Aramis, Athos assumed, so he took his time. In fact perhaps he was being too cautious because Aramis appeared to be close to sobbing as Athos gently stretched him open with his three fingers. Aramis knew how to relax, that much was obvious, because he had taken Athos' fingers easily but he was also still tight and warm and Athos' cock was aching at the thought of being inside him._

The request forced Athos to open his eyes again to discover Aramis' face right up in front of his own, cheek resting against the pillow.

“What is it?” he asked, curious and somewhat anxious about what would be so important that Aramis would wake him up.

_Sinking into Aramis was incredible. The long moan Aramis made as he did so only spurred Athos on. He didn't push fully inside the first time, he settled half-way although his body was screaming for him to thrust in deeper but he didn't, he waited patiently for Aramis to feel comfortable but Aramis feeling comfortable didn't appear to be a priority in Aramis' mind because, as soon as Athos stopped moving, Aramis pushed his hips up and impaled himself onto Athos._

_“So good...you feel so good...” Aramis was babbling._

_“Come here,” Porthos requested and then the noise of wet lips kissing filled the room._

_Athos pulled out slightly and then gently pushed back inside, gasping as he did so._

Aramis was soon smiling at him which was a good sign but it wasn't one of his big, broad, eye-crinkle smiles, it was a shy smile, as if he was embarrassed to say what he wanted to say despite the fact he had woken up Athos to do it.

“When I just woke up just now, in bed with you and Porthos...I think I felt the happiest I've ever felt in my entire life.”

_Athos wasn't even sure what was happening beneath him between Porthos and Aramis but it involved them both making an awful lot of pleasurable noises but Athos just concentrated on keeping a steady rhythm with his hips, rocking back and forth, sliding in and out of Aramis. His hands were holding onto Aramis' hips, trying to keep him still which was proving to be futile as Aramis was wiggling about all over the place, thrusting forward against Porthos and then pushing back against Athos and he was loving it; he kept on whispering their names and then crying out in pleasure each time Athos caught a sweet spot or he rubbed against Porthos just right._

_At one point Athos did notice Porthos' thick fingers slipping into Aramis' dishevelled curls and pulling him back down for another kiss which seemed to silence them both for a brief moment until they pulled apart._

_“Harder...” Aramis begged. “Athos, please, harder.”_

_Athos did was he was asked, shifting his knees closer so that he was almost kneeling between the two pairs of legs, he gripped onto Aramis' hips more tightly and began to thrust in a little more powerfully. It made Aramis cry out in delight and Porthos groaned louder in turn._

_Athos was soon pounding in deep and hard because Aramis seemed to delight in it and it was certainly close to sending Athos over the edge. Porthos was soon doing something again because Aramis then became a quivering mess. He didn't seem sure if he wanted to groan or cry but then he unexpectedly clamped down onto Athos' cock which made Athos see stars. Aramis was shivering and Porthos was whispering words of encouragement, Athos could only assume that Aramis was having his orgasm and it only took a couple of further thrusts into the cruelly tight hole before Athos was joining him, Porthos' happy sigh accompanied them quickly after._

Athos blinked at Aramis for a moment processing the words. The happiest he'd ever felt, just because he'd woken up in bed with them and probably because they'd had sex the night before. Athos was pleased that they had made Aramis feel so happy. In fact so happy that he obviously wanted to wake Athos up to express it. Perhaps Aramis was finally feeling like he belonged in their relationship. 

Athos eventually realised he was staring and knew that he should probably say something, he just wasn't sure what. Usually a small smile sufficed in lieu of having to form a sentence but he had a feeling that the smile wouldn't be enough on this occasion.

“I...Aramis...that's...” Athos regretted talking before he had planned what to say but Aramis was waiting and looking nervous. “...I want to make you happy. I'm glad that we're achieving that.”

It obviously wasn't quite the answer Aramis had been expected because he appeared to think for a moment before his grin was back and he pushed himself up against Athos' body again as close as he could get. Athos felt trapped but didn't dare move. He just wrapped his arm back around Aramis until he dozed in bed for a while longer, only woken by the noise of his phone vibrating on the bedside table. He had to roll onto his back to reach out for it before press the all too bright flashing green button and bringing it to his ear with a croaky hello.

“Athos?” The voice belonged to Treville. “I know you're both busy working on others cases but I really need you. That mugging which you investigated before, there have been two more in the same area and the victim from the attack last night is in a coma. Everyone else is already overloaded with work. Can you take this one?”

Athos, not one to ever let the Captain down or turn from his responsibilities, immediately began to wake up.

“Of course, Captain. We'll be there within the hour.”

“Thank you, Athos.”

Treville's voice disappeared and Athos blearily looked at the time on his phone; it was almost seven. He still had Aramis clinging onto him and wasn't entirely sure how he was going to thump Porthos awake without disturbing the man squashed between them both so decided it was futile to even try and use Aramis instead. 

“Aramis,” Athos whispered. “Can you wake Porthos up for me?”

Aramis promptly rolled away from Athos and onto his other side where Porthos was snoring.

“Thank you,” Athos said and then stretched out his legs and attempted to find the energy to move. He was expecting to hear a grumble from Porthos at some point but, instead of that, he heard a moan. Turning his head he discovered that Aramis had disappeared beneath the duvet and Porthos appeared to be waking up in quite pleasant circumstances. 

“Aramis...” Athos sighed. “That wasn't quite what I meant.”

Porthos smiled. “Morning, love,” he said and then moaned again as the Aramis shaped lumped beneath the duvet began bobbing up and down. Athos, despite being somewhat turned on by the change of events, knew that he only had a short-time to get ready and his morning routine would be rushed as a result, so he had to get up and wash.

Athos had almost finished in the shower when the shower-door suddenly opened letting in cold air and a naked Porthos. 

“Morning,” Porthos said with a grin and immediately came over to wickedly place his cold hands against Athos' ribs which almost caused Athos bat him away but the kiss to the side of Athos' head made him more forgiveable. “You alright, love? Why are we up so early?”

“Treville called, there have been more muggings like the one we investigated before and they seem to be getting more serious. He needs us back on it.”

Porthos' face looked serious and nodded before reaching past Athos for the shower-gel.

“No problem. You alright?”

“Porthos, I said we would be at the office within an hour so I really need to finish here so I can get dressed and have some breakfast....”

“Hey,” Porthos interrupted and, with the hand not holding the shower-gel, reached out to stroke Athos' arm. “I mean are you alright? You enjoyed last night, yeah?”

Athos nodded. He thought that it was obvious he did and he wasn't sure why Porthos was even asking.

“And there's nothing you're worried about?”

There were plenty of things which Athos was worried about, Athos always had a list. He decided to start from the top.

“I'm worried about meeting the lawyer today. I don't think she'll be very happy that Aramis is refusing to testify and I'm concern that it means...”

“Can I come?” Porthos interrupted. The question stunned Athos for a moment before he considered it and decided that it wasn't such a bad idea.

“If you'd like to.”

“Yeah I think I would,” Porthos confirmed before washing himself. “I don't like the fact you're having lunch with a smart, young, lawyer.”

Athos was a little surprised at Porthos' jealousy. Porthos wasn't usually a jealous man when it came to Athos because he trusted that Athos would be loyal at all times. Perhaps Aramis and his somewhat more wayward understanding of commitment had made Porthos now worry about Athos as well. Athos wanted to put a stop to those fears straight away.

“Porthos, I can assure you that...”

“She might flirt with you or something and then you'd get all flustered and not know what to do. No, I need to protect you, for your own sake.” He was grinning and Athos realised that Porthos was just being silly so relaxed.

Aramis was not best pleased about being left on his own but Athos cruelly used Aramis' good heart against him and explained that people were being hurt and they needed help which made Aramis eventually accept the fact he would have to stay at home with Frodo. Athos hoped that Aramis would stay out of trouble whilst they were gone. 

When they got to the office a uniformed officer filled them in on the two assaults. A second young man had been attacked as he made his way home alone from a bar and then a third man was assaulted just the night before and had been beaten so badly that he was currently in a coma. Athos suspected that it could be the same gang. Thieves were all too common in Paris but usually the thievery didn't involve such levels of brutal violence. He grabbed the three sketches which had been drawn up after their visit with the first victim and went off to the hospital to check on the most recent.

The comforting smell of antiseptic and cleanliness filled Athos' nostrils as they went up to the intensive care ward. There a nurse, who looked at their badges suspiciously, eventually guided them to a bed where a man lay connected up to various beeping machines, his face a bruised and swollen mess. A woman was also there leaning forward in a chair so that she was resting her head down on the bed, hand gripping his tightly.

“That's his fiancé,” the nurse whispered. “Her name is Pauline. We managed to track her down a few hours ago and she has been sitting there ever since.”

The nurse left them which forced Porthos to go over and gently place his hand on Pauline's back. She sat up startled and then stared at them in surprise. She was a delicate-looking, blonde woman who was clearly a couple of decades younger than the man on the bed. Once she obviously remembered where she was, she immediately turned to the man on the bed.

“I'm sorry for waking you,” Porthos said, stepping away to give her space. “I'm Detective du Vallon and this is Detective Sergeant de la Fere. We just came to see how your finance was doing.”

“He has...” She screwed her face momentarily as she thought. “...a fractured skull and swelling to his brain. So they're keeping him asleep for a while. The doctor said that they'll do another scan in a few hours.” She glanced down at her watch as if checking what the time was. Athos noticed that her watch looked expensive, with sparkling diamonds around the clock face.

“What was taken?” he asked.

“Excuse me?” 

Athos realised quickly that his question must have sounded rather abrupt. 

“Sorry I mean he was robbed, was he not? Do you know what was taken?”

“I...I'm not sure. I mean I don't know. By the time I arrived he was already in this hospital gown, I don't know where his belongings are. He was out shopping so I suppose he would have had his wallet on him...he'll be alright, won't he? I mean swelling to his brain...the swelling will go down eventually, won't it?”

Athos didn't feel like he had the medical knowledge to properly answer such a question but Porthos' positively came out instead.

“I'm sure he'll be fine. He was on his own?”

Pauline nodded. “He always just gets a taxi into the city so he doesn't have to worry about parking.”

They stayed with her for another few minutes but she didn't know anything about the mugging itself so eventually they left. Something had Athos feeling curious and it caused him to pull out his notebook where he had written down all of the details the policeman had given them earlier.

“What was a man like that with money and a beautiful fiancé doing down that end of the Rue St Denis?”

“What do you mean 'that end'?” Porthos asked curiously until he got Athos' meaning. “Oooh 'that' end.”

Athos had meant the end of Rue St Denis which was a red light district. In fact where Pierre was found, according to his notes, was very close to where Aramis had been working in the brothel.

“I dunno. Doesn't sound good, does it? Wonder if his fiancé knows where he was beaten-up.” 

“Let's not mention it,” Athos suggested, in fear of upsetting a woman who seemed on the surface very sweet and pleasant. “Not unless we have to. We'll go and interview the second victim who at least is awake and can possibly give us further details.”

The second victim could. Although he had some minor injuries and was clearly shaken up, he managed to describe hearing foot-steps coming from behind before he was shoved down an alleyway. There two men held him face down against the ground whilst a third dipped into his pockets. They took his wallet and his phone, gave him a bit of a kicking and then raced off. Athos showed the young man the three sketches of t he suspects and the man appeared to agree that it could have been the same three men although it was dark so it was hard to tell. Athos quizzed him on his movements and received a very confident description of the direction in which he had walked from the bar towards the metro. Athos could tell that he was being honest so suggested that he come down the station to give a proper statement later on in the day.

Once Athos and Porthos got back into the car to head off to lunch Athos decided to share his thoughts on something which was bothering him. “So one young victim mugged on his way home from work a couple of weeks ago. Another young victim mugged a couple of streets down also by three men and, once they had what they wanted, the men ran off. All of that makes sense. But why this last one? For a start he's a good twenty years older then the other two victims and why put him into a coma? The jump in the level of violence is unusual.”

“Hmm maybe he fought back too much? Maybe he insulted them? Daddy issues?”

“Perhaps.”

“Where exactly was he found?” Porthos asked.

“At the bottom of some steps.”

“Outside a house...shop?”

“I don't know...” Athos lifted up his notepad to check.

“Doesn't matter. Maybe we can go and look later. We need to meet this lawyer first and get that over and done.”

Athos nodded in agreement. His mind had been so focused on the new case that he had, for a brief moment, forgotten about the impending meeting with the lawyer which was only going to end badly. Still, it had to be done.

Athos and Porthos were guided by a waiter to a table where Anne was sitting by herself waiting. She looked surprised as she stood up to greet them both and the waiter looked none too happy about the extra person either, muttered something about getting another menu, re-arranged the chairs and then walking off.

“I'm sorry, this is my partner Porthos, he wanted to come and meet you.”

“Of course,” Anne said politely, eyed Porthos up for a moment then smiled and sat back down. She brushed down her dress and then picked up the menu. Athos chose a salad because he couldn't face trying to eat a big meal whilst they had a difficult conversation. He didn't pay any attention to what the other two ordered and, the second they were all left alone again, he decided to just jump right into it. 

“I'm very sorry but I haven't been very successful at all. I spoke to Aramis and he's refusing to testify.”

Anne looked visibly disappointed. “For any of it? Even the assault?”

“I'm afraid so. You see Aramis and Marsac had a very close relationship and Aramis is struggling with the guilt of it all. I think facing Marsac in court would just be too much for him.”

Anne was clearly disappointed but she paused for a moment to consider her thoughts. “Well this is...this isn't good news. I have nothing. I have no-one to testify that Marsac was supplying drugs now Roche has vanished, no victim to the assault. So now all I've got to go on is ownership of the brothels but that's all based on evidence Vice collected which at least proves that Marsc had someone else buy the buildings on his behalf, he was collecting the money and there are statements from his past workers. Also I have the confession in the interview you conducted but the defence lawyer could easily argue was said under duress.”

“Athos and I can testify about the assault,” Porthos offered. “We came in with Aramis lying on the ground unconscious and Marsac curled up against the wall sobbing.”

Anne gave an unconvincing nod. “I know but there's a reason why we force victims of violence to go to court and face their attackers, because we need them up there giving evidence. No victim, no assault.”

“But if he had died you'd convict Marsac of murder, it's the same thing.”

“No not really. That's just how it works. A victim not going to court is like withdrawing the accusation.”

“For fucks sake, this is insane,” Porthos grumbled. “So all we can get him on is the brothels?”

“Yes.”

“Well perhaps that will do for now,” Athos suggested, trying to defuse the situation. “If he gets found guilty of that then he'll get a couple of years inside and that gives us time to find more evidence.”

“So drop the other charges?” Anne asked.

“Is that possible?”

“Well...yes, I suppose so. Although I have another idea. I could try and do a deal with his lawyer. Say we'll drop the other charges if he pleads guilty to owning the brothels. It'll only work if his lawyer believes that we have more evidence than we actually do.”

Athos liked the sound of Anne's idea. It would make things quick and easy and at least guarantee Marsac would be found guilty of something. Anything to get Marsac off the streets and away from Aramis. “His lawyer doesn't know that Aramis isn't testifying, does he? You could even say that the offer is on the table in order for you not to have to put the witnesses through the ordeal.”

“Yes I could. I don't need to give in the witness names until closer to the date of the trial so he won't know.”

“Then do it,” Athos encouraged. “It's worth a try.”

“Alright. And I'll go talk to Vice again to see if they can help any further. They might know some ex-brothel workers who would be willing to testify to beef up the evidence a bit.”

Instead of leaving the meeting with his anxiety levels raising, Athos felt positive. It wasn't what Marsac deserved but it was something and keeping Aramis safe was his main concern.

After finishing their dinner Athos and Porthos went off to Rue St Denis and parked illegally on the opposite side of the road to where Pauline's fiancé Pierre had been found lying unconscious and beaten at the bottom of the steps. There were a lot of people walking up and down the street and Athos just couldn't figure out how a violent mugging could have taken place in such a public area. Athos suggested that they sit and watch the residence for a while to see if any occupants would appear. It was a large house with four floors, it would have to be owned by someone who had money. In the time they sat watching, Porthos grumbling about still being hungry, people did appear or at least they disappeared; three men walked up the steps and went into the house. A different man at one point came out. But after sitting there for an hour, Athos beginning to get an idea of what the house was used for, the door opened and he sat bolt up-right in shock at the sight of the woman who emerged from the front door.

“I don't fucking believe it,” he muttered, feeling furious. Nashiko hurried down the steps and Athos immediately swung his car-door open to get out.


	42. The Home-Cooked Dinner

Athos vaguely heard his name being yelled from inside the car but he managed to drown it out by shutting the car-door. He looked both ways for traffic, still having some sense not to get himself killed, before dashing across the street. Nashiko was walking quickly so Athos had to jog in order to catch up to her. He could feel his blood boil as he stared at her back. She was the woman who had told Marsac that Aramis had called the police. She was just as much to blame for the fact Aramis had ended up in hospital after almost being strangled to death, despite the fact she had eventually helped them find him. 

When he eventually caught up with her he side-stepped her and stood in front of her path. But she didn't even look at him, she just moved to walk past. 

“Stop!” Athos ordered.

“Go away,” was the defiant response and her continuing strides meant that Athos had to once again go after her.

“If you don't stop I'll arrest you,” was his next attempt. This time Nashiko did stop. She turned around and stared at him, seemingly none too amused at the threat.

“On what charge, police-man?”

Athos searched his brain for a charge, accessory to attempted murder he suspected would be a good threat but then he reminded himself why they were even there in the first place, it wasn't about Aramis, it was about Pierre and the attack. 

“Let's go back into that house you just appeared from and find out, shall we?”

She glared at him. “What do you want?”

“Last night a man was found beaten and unconscious outside what I assume is your new brothel. I don't suppose you know anything about it?”

“Why would I?” Nashiko continued to scowl. “Do I look like someone who could beat a man up?”

Whilst Nashiko was small Athos' automatically decided that she did indeed look like someone who could beat a man up but he quickly decided that sharing that thought probably wouldn't help the situation. 

“So you're saying it's just a coincidence that it happened outside your brothel?”

“Who says I have a brothel?” Nashiko turned again and began to walk off. “You made me loss my job, remember?”

“Well...clearly not,” Athos noted, briefly turning around to look at the street behind them and the place she had appeared from before going after her again. “Who owns you now?”

“No-one owns me,” she spat out each word.

“Okay...who owns the brothel? Who do you work for?”

She stopped again, abruptly, nearly sending Athos flying into the back of her. When she turned back though her expression wasn't as harsh as before. “When one person goes they are quickly replaced. You know that.”

Athos knew that she wouldn't give him a name but it did lead him to be curious about it. Marsac was in jail, his brothels had been shut-down but someone had obviously offered work to Nashiko and no doubt a lot of Marsac's prostitutes as well. But he wasn't there to find out about that, he was there about the muggings.

“If I find out...” he warned and pointed his finger down at her to add more power to his threat. “...that you or your brothel had anything to do with the man being beaten to within an inch of his life I will get you for it. This time you're the one I'm coming after.”

“Whatever you say, police-man. Now leave me alone, I have somewhere to go.”

Nashiko marched off again and this time Athos didn't bother following her. He sighed as he watched her go, his anger slowly dissipating. When he turned around to walk back down the street he saw a very grumpy looking Porthos standing there with his arms folded.

“What was that about?” Porthos asked.

“Sorry, I...I let my emotions get the better of me,” Athos pointed out although he suspected that part was obvious. He looked past Porthos over at the house which they had been watching. “Do you consider it to be a coincidence that Pierre was found beaten outside a brothel?”

Porthos turned around to stare in the direction Athos was facing before shrugging. “I don't know. But why would they beat up one of their clients? Not exactly good business, is it? I mean maybe he did something he shouldn't have done but it was a big beating.”

“I'm tempted to go in there and ask around but the sense part of my head is stopping me.”

“Yeah, listen to that sense part for once,” Porthos concurred. “They won't tell you anything, you know what it's like. Wonder who owns it.”

“She wouldn't tell me. We could appeal for witnesses to the mugging though. I mean look at this place, it's a busy area, someone must have seen something. And we need to hope that Pierre wakes up and can tell us what happened.”

“Well he might not be honest if he was beaten up inside a brothel,” Porthos pointed out. “We'll have to wait and see what he says...if he wakes up.”

Athos began walking back towards the car, assuming that Porthos would follow. “I'll phone the hospital and ask them to keep us updated on his condition. And I'll talk to PR back at the station about putting an appeal for witnesses out on social media.”

And that's what they did once they were back at the station. The second mugging victim also came in to give an official statement like they had suggested so Porthos, with a uniformed officer, went off to speak to him. Eventually Porthos came back upstairs again and Athos realised that he had completely lost track of the time. Porthos perched on Athos' desk which drove Athos mad because he had moved Athos' phone in the process.

“Aramis just rang wondering where we were,” Porthos told him. “He's meant to be going to that party tonight but he doesn't seem to want to go.”

Athos was staring at his phone, wanting Porthos to move so he could put it back where it belonged. Athos hated parties with every fibre of his being so he had some sympathy for Aramis.

“He doesn't have to go. There's no point in forcing him.”

“Yeah I know,” Porthos sighed and stood up again. Athos immediately reached out and straightened up his phone. Then he inspected the rest of his desk. Everything was where it should be, he could breathe again. “But after what happened during his last shift, I think it's really important that he goes, so he knows everything is fine and they all still like him.”

“Well I'll leave that to you,” Athos said, not wanting to get involved because forcing someone else to do something that he wouldn't do himself would make him feel like a giant hypocrite. 

“Anyway, we should go home, it has been a long day. You done here?”

Athos wasn't at all done, he had spent so much of his day focusing on the muggings, talking to public relations and writing up his notes, which were always very thorough, that he hadn't even had the time to find out more about Hector Lovitt. 

“Hello?” Porthos was trying to get his attention from the other side of the desk where he had sat down. “This is your ten minute warning. Begin to turn your brain off because in ten minutes we're going home.”

“Fine,” Athos said reluctantly and, after twenty minutes, Porthos managed to get him away from the computer-screen to take him home. Athos grabbed the police artist's sketches of the mugging suspects just in case they had the chance to go and show Charon over the weekend. 

The sight they came home to was quite something; Aramis had been cooking.

“I made you dinner!” He announced happily as he stood there in an apron which Athos had brought Porthos one Christmas which said 'May I suggest the sausage' with a big arrow pointing downwards. 

The kitchen was in chaos. There was flour and apple peel covering the work-top, dirty baking dishes balancing on the hobs, cracked eggs shells lying beside the sink and unwashed pots and bowls everywhere.

“I made tomato tarts with roasted garlic and goats cheese...I hope...and then apple pie for dessert. I used your recipe books.”

“I...” Athos found himself quite speechless at the horror of the situation.

“That's wonderful, Aramis!” Porthos managed to say cheerfully. “What a lovely thing to do. I'm starving as well. Is it ready?”

“Yes, I've been keeping it warm in the oven.”

Aramis went over to the oven to get out their dinner but Athos couldn't physically move as his eyes stared at the wreckage covering what once was their kitchen. Porthos came over and placed his hands gently on Athos' shoulders.

“I'll help him clean up afterwards, just smile and enjoy,” Porthos suggested before gently pushing Athos. 

In order not to fall flat on his face, Athos did have to move his legs as Porthos guided him towards the dining-table where he was shoved down onto a chair positioned so his back at least was facing away from the disaster area. Not seeing it didn't make him relax though because he knew it was there. He could feel it behind him; the mess, the mayhem, the disorder. Athos felt dizzy and he had a strong and sudden craving for whiskey...a whole bottle of whiskey.

“I hope you like it, I haven't really done a lot of cooking. The tarts do sort of look like they do in the picture but the apple pie got a bit burnt around the edges.”

“I'm sure it'll all taste delicious,” Porthos said as he sat himself down. 

Athos envied Porthos. Porthos was smiling easily and clearly excited to taste Aramis' creation. Whereas Athos was just trying not to hyperventilate.

“You're fine,” Porthos said from across the table and Athos was given a reassuring smile. He was fine. He was fine, no need to panic about it. He was fine. Upon realising this his fingers were gripping the file of drawings still in his hand, he slapped the file down onto the table and then ran his shaking fingers through his hair. Calm the fuck down, he told himself. He was about to attempt to distract himself by straightening out the cutlery when a plate of two tarts with salad was deposited in front of him and, much to his surprise, it actually looked and smelt quite delicious. And it helped somewhat knowing that food poisoning perhaps wouldn't be following the panic attack and that thought did calm Athos down a little. Although he also knew that, the quicker they ate, the faster the mess would be cleaned up so he picked up his knife and fork ready to dive in.

“Wait!” Aramis sat himself down once all of the food was on the table. “We need to say grace.”

Grace? They never said grace. But Aramis reached out for both of their hands and closed his eyes. Athos glanced over at Porthos who looked equally confused but shrugged and bowed his head so Athos did the same and closed his eyes, which at least helped him to focus on controlling the shakes in his hands because he didn't want Aramis to notice.

“Dear Lord, thank you for everything you provide for us, including this house and the food on our plates. Thank you for Athos and Porthos and the way they have been very kind to me. And thank you for Frodo. Amen.”

Athos muttered an 'amen' to be polite and, much to his surprise, when he opened up his eyes again everything felt slightly better. 

“I didn't actually make the pastry,” Aramis pointed out as he let go of Porthos' hand but continued to grip onto Athos. “I brought it ready-made but I did the rest of the stuff.”

He was grinning, clearly pleased that he had been able to make dinner for them. Then he looked at Athos and brought Athos' hand up to his mouth, kissing it gently before finally letting go.

“It's lovely, Aramis,” Athos forced himself to say, wondering what he had done to deserve the kiss.

“We'll clean up once we've eaten then you need to get ready go to out,” Porthos suggested before cutting into one of his tarts.

“Oh, well I've eaten now,” Aramis pointed out. “It's a meal, remember? So I don't need to go anymore.”

Athos then realised how smart Aramis had been. The impromptus and sudden romantic gesture of cooking them dinner was just a way to get out of the party. Porthos obviously realised the same thing because he frowned.

“You can still go to the rest of it.”

“But I don't want to,” Aramis said in a small voice.

“Why?” Athos asked curiously. He knew that Aramis found new things difficult but he was interested to discover exactly what was worrying him.

“Because I'll just do something wrong,” Aramis mumbled, poking at his tart before eating a small mouthful. 

“No you won't,” Porthos assured him, reaching over to touch Aramis' wrist. “And, even if you do, no-one minds. You're still learning. We're all still learning, new things every day. Would you like me to go with you?”

Aramis' head darted up. “Are you allowed to come?”

Porthos shrugged. “I don't know but I don't see why not, especially if we're just going for the drinking and dancing part. You can just say I'm your boyfriend...which I am. Would it make you feel better if I was there? Or would you rather that I didn't go with you?”

“I'd like it if you came with me.”

Aramis seemed happier then. He grinned and shifted in his seat to sit up straighter. 

“I'll come then. And, some point soon, we need to take you clothes shopping again because, if you're going to keep going out, you're going to need more things to wear.”

Aramis was still grinning and, much to Athos' relief, he began to eat his dinner properly. The tarts were a delight, the apple pie slightly less so but it was edible at least and Athos managed to politely force the large portion down. 

Once they were all done Porthos and Aramis, much to Athos' relief, set about cleaning up and Athos decided to do the same to himself. He went upstairs to shower and change into some clean casual clothes so he could relax for the evening. Although relaxing to Athos meant working. Porthos came up into the bedroom at one point to steal one of Athos' shirts for Aramis to wear. Athos left him to it but then decided that he should at least go downstairs to say goodbye to Aramis. What he found was Aramis standing there staring at the sketches Athos had accidentally left on the table.

“Has something happened to Alexei?” Aramis asked, looking distressed, staring down at one of the pictures.

“Sorry?” Athos walked over.

“Alexei.” Aramis lifted up the piece of paper to show Athos. “Was he one of the people that was hurt? Is he alright?”

Athos stood in front of the drawing and stared at it. Alexei...it did look a little like the heroin addict who had spent the night in their house. Athos mentally kicked himself for not noticing before.

“No, he's fine, he's fine, he's not hurt,” Athos said automatically, not wanting to put Aramis into a panic. “He might have seen what happened though. Do you know where I can find him?”

Aramis gave a shrug and then pulled the picture back to look at it himself again. “He might be working the streets still I guess.”

“And where would those streets be?”

“I found him before near Porte de Clignancourt.”

Athos knew that Aramis had potentially just given him a huge breakthrough but he tried to keep his face neutral so that Aramis wouldn't realise.

“That's great. Aramis, do you know the other people in the pictures?”

Aramis turned back to the other two drawings on the table but shook his head. “No.”

“Okay, don't worry. Thank you.” Athos stepped forward and gently took the paper off Aramis, cupped him around the back of the neck with his spare hand and kissed Aramis on the forehead. “Have fun this evening.”

Athos gathered up all of the sketches and, with more enthusiasm, he raced back up the stairs to find Porthos who was still changing in the bedroom.

“When you interviewed the young man this afternoon, did he say anything about his attackers having accents?”

Porthos pulling up his socks paused to think about it. “Not sure, no don't think so. I don't think they spoke very much. Why?”

“Doesn't matter. Go and have a fun evening.”

Porthos looked at Athos suspiciously but Aramis was soon calling him so Porthos appeared to decide to leave it until later and they both headed out to the party. The second they had gone Athos was the phone to Constance.

“Are you busy? I don't suppose you feel like taking a trip to the 18th arrondissement?”

“And why, pray tell, would I want to go all the way up there? It's way out of our district.”

“I'm on the hunt for muggers...” Athos explained. “...and I think I have a suspect. He's a drug addict and street prostitute.”

“Oh my favourite sort of people.” Constance seemed to go quiet and Athos wondered if she was about to refuse. “Sure, why not? Spending an evening chasing drug addicts in the cold with my grumpy sergeant on my day off sounds like far more fun than curling up with a glass of red wine watching Netflix. Oh no wait...”

“I'd really appreciate it.”

Athos wasn't above begging when it had to be done.

“Have you fallen out with Porthos?” Constance asked. “I'm not going to step into the middle of a domestic feud, am I?”

“No, no. Porthos is out with Aramis but I need someone to come with me.”

“Alright fine, you owe me.”

“That I do and I'll forever be grateful.”

So Athos met Constance at the police station and, together, they headed out to Porte de Clignancourt in an unmarked police car. 

Athos didn't know the area all that well so he wasn't overly optimistic that they'd even find Alexei, if Alexei wasn't busy mugging people down in the center of Paris, if it even was Alexei in the first place. But he figured it was worth a try. They parked up and got out, Constance was wrapped up far more sensibly in a hat and scarf which Athos began to feel envious of once the cold wind started causing his ears to sting.

“Three muggings?” she asked, Athos had offered a brief explanation of events in the car but now Constance was asking questions to understand it all.

“Two for certain. I'm not as sure about the third, it feels different to the others.”

“And this guy was one of Marsac's prositutues? Which is how Aramis knows him?”

Athos nodded. “And when Aramis found him the other week he was working the streets again. Alexei's young but already addicted to heroin. He didn't look good when we last saw him.”

Constance sighed. “It's so sad, isn't it? Shutting down the brothels does nothing to actually help those who work in them. They either go back onto the streets or find another brothel to work in.”

“True,” Athos agreed. “It does feel like an endless battle at times. As someone pointed out today; pimps, drug-dealers, if we arrest one another one quickly replaces them. It does feel never-ending.”

“It is but, still, doesn't mean we stop trying, huh? Because once in a while it makes a difference, maybe just to one person, like Aramis.”

“Indeed. Now let's try and find Alexei before he keeps going stupid things.”

Unfortunately finding him proved to be difficult. Athos and Constance walked around the area for a good hour but didn't come across any prostitutes at all. Eventually a small group of women appeared and Athos sent Constance to approach them because he thought they'd feel more comfortable talking to another woman. But, when she came back, she shook her head.

“They know there are boys who work the area but they didn't seem to know Alexei and they said that they come and go. They're not here every night like the women are.”

“Perhaps they've taken to mugging instead,” Athos sighed. “Quicker and easier. We'll wait another couple of hours, we might get lucky.”

“Can we do the waiting part of that in a warm cafe snuggling up to a coffee please? Because I'm starting to lose all feeling in my extremities.”

Athos agreed, mostly to keep Constance happy as she was doing him a favour. They found a cafe and sat beside the window so they could still see outside. Once Constance was settled with her coffee, holding it tightly in her cold fingers, she began to quiz Athos.

“Porthos said that you've moving into a nice rented apartment and then renting out your house. Sounds like a good idea for the time-being because your place is a bit small for three grown-men and a dog. Are you excited?”

“Thrilled,” Athos said slightly more sarcastically than he had intended.

“How are things with Aramis?”

“He's...we're getting there. He seems very happy. I just think that he still needs to discover who he really is and decide what he wants to do with his life.”

“And he will, it'll just take time.”

“I know,” Athos relaxed a little and stopped staring out of the window, instead turning to look at Constance. “He's always worried about making mistakes and not being good enough. Marsac has ruined his confidence pretty impressively. All Aramis thinks he's good at are...well...his bedroom skills.”

“Bless him. Well I imagine he doesn't even know what he's good at outside of that.”

“We do try to tell him...”

“Yes but he needs to find out for himself.”

“I guess.” Athos had a feeling that he was meant to be asking Constance how she was as well because that's how normal conversations should go, so he attempted it. “And, how are things with you?”

Her mood changed slightly and she looked down at her coffee mug before staring out of the window like Athos had been moments before. “Oh, well, you know.”

“Not really. That's why I was asking.”

She turned back to him and gave a small smile. “Complicated, maybe. I don't know. I probably shouldn't tell you.”

“If this involves d'Artagnan then I already know some of it.”

Her eyes went wide and she suddenly looked horrified. “Do you?!”

“He told me,” Athos said honestly. “About the night when you were both drunk.”

“Fucking d'Artagnan,” she grumbled which startled Athos for a moment although Constance swearing was pretty common place around the office.

“Well he...I mean...I haven't told anyone else,” Athos protested, wanting to reassure her.

“Good. Please don't. I don't want Treville to find out. I know he tolerates you and Porthos but he won't be happy if d'Artagnan and I...”

“Are d'Artagnan and you...?”

Constance let out a long sigh before responding. “No...yes...I don't know. We're getting close, we can't help it. But I like working for the division and so does he. Neither of us want to be transfered.”

“Well I don't know,” Athos shrugged. “It won't be long before you should start looking for DS jobs and that would move you to a different division.”

Constance let a small smile creep across her lips. “Do you think I'd be good enough?”

“Absolutely,” Athos nodded and meant it. “A couple more years of experience under your belt, you'd make an incredible sergeant.”

Constance's smile grew and Athos was pleased that he had said something helpful for a change. With a renewed vigour she drank her coffee quickly and suggested that they hit the streets again. Unfortunately it continued to prove to be unsuccessful. They came across a few more female street workers but they couldn't find any males. So, when it was getting close to 1'o'clock in the morning, Athos made the decision to give up for the night.

“Perhaps we're not looking in the right area,” Constance suggested as they headed back to the car. “You could always call Anne and ask her about it. She's in Vice, she might know where to look.”

I'd rather torture myself slowly with a knitting-needle, Athos thought but didn't say that out loud, he just shrugged and grunted. They dropped the car off at the station and then Constance gave Athos a lift home, which saved him from having to use the metro again. It was in the car that he realised he had three missed calls from Porthos on his phone. Thankfully Porthos had also sent a text message and it seemed that he was just concerned about where Athos was after coming home to find him missing.

By the time Athos got home the house was dark. Athos put the light on in the hallway to take off his coat and shoes, placing them carefully in their correct positions on the coat pegs and shoe rack. He also sorted out Aramis' boots whilst he was there because the left and right were the wrong way around. He then quietly glanced into the living-room but the sofa-bed was empty and Frodo, it seemed, could barely even be bothered to get out of his dog-bed to greet him. It would seem that Frodo had given up trying to be Athos' friend.

Athos quietly went upstairs and was surprised not to hear Porthos snoring. He began to wonder if the other two had gone out again somewhere else but, when he pushed open the bedroom door, he discovered them both lying in bed. Aramis was curled up against Porthos seemingly fast asleep but Porthos was leaning up against some cushions with a book in his hand and the bedside light on. He smiled when Athos came in.

“Hey, there you are,” he whispered. “Wanted to stay up to make sure you were alright.”

“I'm fine,” Athos informed him. “I'll tell you all about it the morning. How did the party go?”

Athos quietly undressed, using the light from the bedside lamp to guide him. It didn't take long as Athos never wore the same clothes for two days in a row so everything went into the washing basket.

“We had a good time. They're a real nice bunch of people and it turns out half of them are related to each other in some way. M. Mathieu was there so I got to know him a little better and he was quizzing me even more. He really does care about Aramis. Turns out he has two boys and he almost lost one of them to a drug habit a few years ago. Said his son is a sweet kid, just got mixed in with the wrong people. I think maybe Aramis reminds him of his son. Anyway, he's pleased that Aramis is out of the brothel and he said that he'll give Aramis as many shifts as he wants.”

“He sounds like a good man,” Athos noted. It was helpful that Aramis was working for someone that did appear to care about Aramis a great deal. But then, as Athos pulled on some pajama bottoms because it was cold, Athos' brain moved from M. Mathieu onto more pressing matters. “We need to work tomorrow. I have a lead on the muggings and we still need to follow up on the...other case. Well the two other cases. I'm still suspicious about Pierre and also...”

“We need to decide on a moving date as well and get a removal van booked,” Porthos interrupted but Athos didn't response because he was in mid-flow. 

“...the other case. We were going to talk to the Priest who runs the church now and we still haven't done that and I need to chase up the financial records, the Bishop said he'd find out about them, I want to make sure that he has.”

“...and I need to take Aramis clothes shopping again and we still need to sort out getting him a passport.”

Athos felt annoyed that Porthos wasn't listening. “We're working tomorrow,” he insisted as there was so much to do.

“Alright. But I'm also doing the rest of it. There's more to life than...”

“Than finding violent thieves and child abusers?” Athos snapped.

Porthos frowned at him. “Just...go do your washing thing and come to bed. You're tired.”

“I'm not tired, you're the one being ridiculous,” Athos grumbled and stormed out of the bedroom to go into the bathroom anyway. 

His head was just full; full of work and full of worries. Everything was connected. Marsac and Aramis were connected to Father Vincent, Hector Lovitt and the so far mysterious third man. Then there was Alexei who was also unfortunately connected to Marsac and now possibly the muggings. But the third suspected mugging victim Pierre could also be connected to the brothel where Nashiko now worked. Nashiko was connected to Marsac and to Alexei...it was all connected but in other ways none of it made sense. It was like a jigsaw, trying to put the pieces together when they all came from different sets.

The mirror of the bathroom began to steam up because Athos had the hot water running whilst he cleaned his hands five times. After the fifth clean, he decided to use the steamed-up mirror to draw a chart. In the middle of the mirror he wrote Marsac, as Marsac appeared to be connected to everything. Then he drew lines to represent the others. Once he was done that his chart looked like a mess as the names and lines began to drip into each other but Athos couldn't help but feel like something was missing. Someone was missing. And what connected Pierre to Nashiko? That one puzzled him the most. Perhaps that was where he should focus his thoughts for the time-being. Forget everything else, it was too much. Why was Pierre found outside the brothel? What had taken him there? Had he used the brothel or was it just a coincidence? 

The bathroom door opened and Athos promptly wiped everything off the mirror with his hand just in case it was Aramis who had come in but it wasn't Aramis, it was a very sheepish looking Porthos.

“Sorry, love,” Porthos said and stood there in his boxer shorts.

“I'm sorry as well. It was an unfair comment to have made,” Athos said very matter-of-factly. “I know you're just caring for Aramis.”

“Yeah I am but work matters as well.” Porthos came over and opened up his arms. Athos stepped into them and wrapped his arms around Porthos in return. Porthos gave him a tight squeeze around the ribs. “It was just nice watching Aramis tonight. When he started to relax he was smiling away and chatting to everyone and even did a bit of dancing. It was so lovely seeing him so happy. No-one wanted anything from him apart from wanting to get to know him better.”

“That's good,” Athos said. “I'm glad he had a good time.”

“You gonna tell me where you were?”

Athos shook his head because he knew it could wait until the morning. “I was with Constance but I'll fill you in tomorrow. Aramis may have provided us with a bit of help.”

Porthos nodded and loosened his grip on Athos. “Alright we'll talk in the morning. Now come to bed, it's bloody freezing.”

Athos finished his routine and then they both went back into the bedroom where Aramis lifted up his head up sleepily.

“Go back to sleep,” Porthos whispered as he hurried over to the bed and pulled back the duvet.

“I wasn't sure where you had gone.” He spotted Athos. “Athos! You're home!”

Aramis then pulled back the duvet on his other side to invite Athos in and Athos gladly accepted the offer. The second he lay back Athos immediately wrapped his arm across Athos' stomach and rested his head on Athos' chest, snuggling up close.

“Porthos and I had a nice time at the party. I did some dancing on the dance-floor, but I didn't know what I was doing.” 

“That doesn't matter,” Athos reassured him, wiggling his arm about under Aramis until it felt comfortable. “As long as you had a good time.”

“I did. I've not really done much dancing before where I have to keep my clothes on.”

Porthos chuckled from across the bed. “Well maybe you can do the other sort of dancing sometime in private for us, but only if you want to.”

“I don't think I'm very good at it. Marsac used to laugh, told me not to do that with clients because I'd lose him trade. I think he was joking though.”

Porthos made a 'hmpf' noise then seemed to briefly appear to kiss Aramis on the shoulder.

“Goodnight, my two gorgeous boyfriends.”

“Goodnight, Porthos,” Athos said as Porthos disappeared again, wondering if the mention of Marsac had annoyed him a little. Porthos then seemed to turn the bedside lamp off because they were all suddenly plunged into darkness and the room went quiet...until Aramis spoke.

“Athos...” 

“Yes, Aramis?”

“Do you want me to help you find Alexei so he can tell you what he saw?”

Athos didn't know what to say. The truth was he felt bad for lying to Aramis but he didn't want to upset Aramis either. If Aramis found out that Alexei had possibly been going around mugging people and beating them up, he suspected that Aramis would blame himself somehow and Athos didn't want that. 

“No, it's fine,” Athos whispered.

“But I want to help.”

“You don't need to help, it's okay.” Athos suddenly had visions of Aramis going off into the streets on his own again. “Please don't help.”

Aramis went quiet for a while before he eventually replied with, “Alright.”

Athos tightened his grip around Aramis just in case. That way, if Aramis tried to escape at some point during the night, Athos would feel it.


	43. The Drug-Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [I'm SO sorry for taking so long in getting this chapter finished! Please be assured that I haven't forgotten this story and I completely intend to keep going and get it finished. As an apology I've written an extra long chapter with a nice bit of smut and, hoora, the story is finally developing.]

Athos found himself waking up during the night and, once the groggy feeling wore off, he had a strange urge to check on Aramis although he wasn't awake enough to remember why, but he blinked his eyes open in the darkness to check that Aramis was still there. He was relived to see the back of Aramis' dark curls. The still man was curled up against Porthos and seemed to be sound asleep. Athos knew that Porthos was like a hot-water bottle at night so didn't blame Aramis for turning in that direction on such a cold night. It was only Porthos' snoring which stopped Athos from doing the same thing on some occassions.

Athos suspected that Aramis enjoyed being squashed between them both in bed, taking his pick of who to cuddle up to next. Aramis seemed to be a very tactile person despite all of the bad touching he must have experienced in his life. It amazed Athos the more he thought about it. He had spent his entire career dealing with people who were understandably broken, beaten-down, angry and destructive and yet there was Aramis who had abused as a child and abused as an adult yet still so gentle and kind, forgiving and caring. Although there was also another side to Aramis, the side which felt more closed-off, a part of him which was secretive and was hard to tap into. Athos wondered in the darkness of the room if they'd ever get to know everything about Aramis and if they'd ever hear his full story, or if Aramis was always going to hold onto that part tightly.

Knowing that he needed to turn his brain off in order to get back to sleep, Athos shuffled forward in the bed and curled up against Aramis' back. Aramis felt warm and cosy.

The following morning, in a gesture which Athos hoped would be appreciated, he brought up the topic of moving. Porthos seemed pleased that Athos wanted to talk about it and they decided to move as soon as possible because it was something which had been hanging over their heads for too long. So Porthos phoned up a removal company and soon men and a lorry were booked for two weeks time. Athos was still partly in denial about moving. Moving stressed him out but he already knew that Porthos and Aramis understood and would be patient with him and his OCD. And somewhere, deep down, Athos knew that moving was the best for all three of them. They needed a bigger place, they needed somewhere to establish their new relationship now it was three of them instead of two. Four if you counted the dog.

Once the delivery company was booked and Athos felt like he had done his part, he hoped that he could talk to Porthos about work. Only he didn't bring up the topic fast enough because Porthos suddenly called Aramis over to the table and opened up his laptop. Athos assumed Porthos was going to do something about getting Aramis a passport so decided to leave them to it temporarily and set about making himself a second cup of coffee whilst putting away the breakfast items.

“What's your mother's name?” Athos heard Porthos ask which caught his attention for a moment.

“It asks that?” Aramis questioned. Athos turned and watched Aramis sit on his hands, his uncomfortable body language spoke volumes.

“Yup,” Porthos assured him. “This is all to get a copy of your birth certificate because we need that in order to get you a passport.”

Aramis leaned over to look at the computer-screen before sitting back. Athos turned away again, not wanting to make a big deal about the situation but he was listening very carefully.

“Mariana Antonella d'Herblay.”

Athos was surprised that Aramis told Porthos.

“Okay, great,” Porthos said and typed it in. “Was she born in France?”

“Spain.”

“And what's your father's name?”

Aramis went quiet again and Athos had to physically restrain himself from turning around and looking over at the pair of them.

“I...I don't know.”

“No? His name wasn't d'Herblay?”

“Oh yes, yes that was his name.”

“What was his first name?”

There was silence for a moment again apart from the noise of the coffee machine doing its work.

“Why does it want to know that?”

“It just helps, that's all,” Porthos said reassuringly. “Doesn't matter if you don't know or don't want to say. Was he French though? That might make a difference when it comes to applying for a passport.”

“Yes, he was French.”

“Then let's hope his name and place of birth is on your birth certificate otherwise that might complicated matters.”

“Why?”

“Because it might affect your rights to a French passport.”

“I don't know his first name, he's dead.”

The coffee pot was soon ready so Athos poured himself a cup but he was still listening carefully to the conversation going on behind him.

“That's okay, doesn't matter. This will be enough, they'll be-able to find it from what I've put onto the form. Then, once we have this, we can get you a passport and a bank account.”

“Okay,” Aramis' voice sounded slightly more cheerful. “Can I have some of my money today so I can buy more clothes?”

Athos heard one of the chairs scrape back. He now felt like it was now safe to turn around and lean up against the counter as he blew on the coffee to cool it down. Porthos was stretching, his arms reaching out about his head.

“Sure,” he said. “Do you want to head out in a minute?”

“Oh I...I thought maybe I could go alone...unless you really want to come?”

Porthos promptly dropped his arms. “You don't want me to come?”

“I...no it's fine. You can come if you want to.”

Athos did wonder how Porthos would react. He could tell by the slump of Porthos' shoulders that he was disappointed about the fact Aramis wanted to go without him.

“No, you go. If you want to go shopping by yourself, you do it, mate. Athos and I have some work to do anyway.”

Porthos smiled but Athos knew that smile, it was a fake one, Porthos was upset.

“Yes we do,” Athos interrupted, hoping that he could help Porthos focus on something else for a while. “In fact I need to phone the hospital and get an update.”

Once the coffee mug was empty and washed up, Athos phoned the hospital and spoke to one of the nurses. She informed him that Pierre was still under sedation and was due for another brain scan around lunch-time to see if the swelling had gone now but his doctor was optimistic. Athos requested that they call him if the situation changed.

By the time he had finished the phone-call Aramis had left, leaving them both behind with the dog who hadn't even been taken out yet but Athos didn't see that as his responsibilty. Instead he went to find the artist sketches which Aramis had spotted the night before.

“Who does this remind you of?” he asked Porthos, holding up the same sketch which Aramis had seen.

“Well considering you said that Aramis might have helped us...I'm guessing it's someone Aramis know? Oh, wait...it looks a bit like that young Russian guy Aramis brought here? What was his name...Alexei?”

Athos dropped the drawing back onto the table.

“Exactly, that's what Aramis said and he could be right. I asked Aramis where he found Alexei the last time and then I took Constance out with me to look for him. Only we didn't have any luck.”

Porthos, who hadn't moved from his chair since Aramis had left, scratched at his beard. “I hope it's not Alexei but the kid did look desperate. Desperate people do desperate things for drug money. So we need to find Alexei?”

Athos nodded, pleased that Porthos was now eager. “Aramis offered to help but I told him not to. Aramis doesn't realise that Alexei is a suspect, I told him that Alexei was a witness because I didn't want him to worry.”

Porthos raised a curious eyebrow. “When did you tell him not to help?”

“Last night,” Athos explained which appeared to make Porthos' eyes go very wide.

“Athos!”

Porthos groaned before finally pushed back the chair and standing up.

“What?” Athos asked innocently. Surely making sure that Aramis wouldn't get involved was the right thing to do? What had he done wrong this time?

“What?” he asked again as Porthos walked past and disappeared into the hallway.

“Get your coat, you oblivious idiot,” came the voice from the hallway. “I thought it was weird that Aramis would want to go clothes shopping by himself when he usually soaks up our attention like a sponge.”

Realisation slowly began to dawn for Athos. “You don't think that he's...”

Athos went over to the hallway himself then. Porthos was already pulling on his boots. “You know how much he likes helping and you know how much he cares about people.”

So they both got into the car and rushed off to Porte de Clignancourt where Athos had been with Constance the night before. And they soon found themselves standing outside the same busy train station wondering where to go. It wasn't an area of Paris that either of them were overly familiar with and Alexei probably wouldn't be working the streets in board daylight. Porthos had already tried to call Aramis twice but Aramis hadn't answered his phone which all but confirmed that Porthos was probably right.

“Guess we just ask around,” Porthos suggested and they visited some local shops and asked about the drug addicts and where they might hang-out. They managed to gather some vague information and then had to listen to a lot of ranting and complaining about the area but nothing that was helpful. The hours ticked by and Athos began to get increasingly worried. They tried Aramis' phone again, still no answer. How were they going to find him in such a large and busy place?

Athos had the idea to phone the local police-station but even they didn't seem keen to help and were mostly just concerned as to why Porthos and Athos were working in their area. Athos couldn't be bothered to even explain himself so just hung up in exasperation. They had all but run out of ideas when Porthos decided to buy a coffee for a wrinkled and grey-whiskered homeless guy he had been chatting to and suddenly they had a break-through.

“....that's the place where the rent-boys hang around at night. That's where your Russian will be. But there's also an empty apartment block not far from here,” the homeless man explained. “Used to use it myself before the fucking druggies moved in. Out of their minds most of them. Got too dangerous for me, fucking safer out here on the streets than with those mad nutters.”

The homeless man gave them directions, Porthos gave him twenty euros as a thank you and they quickly set off.

When they came across the empty four-story apartment block all of the doors and windows were boarded up but Athos knew that the homeless and drug-addicts were getting in somehow so they both tried all of the front doors and the basement door but to no avail.

“Maybe 'round the back?” Porthos suggested, wading through the over-grown grass which had created a jungle around the building.

A simple way to get in continued to look impossible until Porthos discovered a couple of the planks of wood which were loose. He pulled at them and they swung away from the door revealing a large hole, certainly large enough for a human-being to get through. Athos nodded at Porthos and Porthos crawled inside, Athos following closely behind.

The inside of the apartment block it smelt of dust and paint. There were white sheets shoved up against the walls and the half-finished paint job hadn't yet managed to cover up all of the stains. Athos immediately felt the dirt and grime get into his pores and his chest struggled to find enough clean air to fill his lungs but Porthos marched on ahead and Athos had no choice but to follow him. To make things worse it felt like night inside the apartment block, despite the fact it wasn't outside but no light was getting in through the boarded-up windows.

Athos listened out for any noises and, as they crept up the first set of stairs, he began to hear the faint sound of music. Porthos nodded up the next flight of steps and Athos nodded back his agreement as the music was coming from somewhere above them. So they eventually walked all of the way up to the top floor and opened up the fire-door which led to the corridor. The music was louder then, some sort of chill-out dance music which Athos couldn't stand. There were voices as well coming from somewhere although they too far away to make out and Athos caught the unpleasant scent of pot and what was probably meth. Athos felt vulnerable and naked without a firearm but, if Aramis was in this hell-hole, then they had to get him out.

Porthos quickly found the apartment where the music was clearly coming from and cautiously reached for the door-handle. The apartment wasn't locked and the door opened. They both went in, Athos covering Porthos' back the best he could without a weapon and the smell of drugs became even stronger. In one large room a few old mattresses had been thrown haphazardly around the floor and various bodies were sitting and lying on top of them. Athos scanned the room quickly and counted five people in the dimness of the room but none of were Aramis or Alexei. There was one person who appeared to be conscious at least, a topless skinny man who was sitting up and leaning back against the wall. He vaguely looked up at them but was obviously too high on whatever was in the needle he had lying beside his arm to have much of a reaction.

“Alexei?” Porthos asked, obviously trying his luck. The man just blinked.

“Russian kid, blond hair.”

The man shrugged which caused Porthos to go over and kneel down in front of him which Athos thought was a terrible idea considering the state of the floor and all of the needles but he didn't have the time to warn Porthos.

“We really need to find him.”

“Try the other apartments,” the man suggested, a grin spreading across his face which revealed some rotting teeth. “We're all in community here. All here together. It's beautiful.”

The man's head then rolled to the side and he appeared to pass out. Athos was feeling so tense that his fingers has clenched into tight fists. Where was Aramis? Was he here?!

Yelling...they both heard it at the same time as both of their heads shot towards the door in unison. It wasn't coming from the apartment they were standing in but from somewhere else close-by. Porthos managed to move first and began to dart out of the room, Athos followed like a shadow.

More yelling...someone was angry, someone was losing it. Out in the corridor the words became clearer. There was swearing mostly but also something about...telling him...fucking keep your mouth shut...screamed the unknown man. Porthos was already heading down the corridor towards the noise and, before Athos even had the same to think up any sensible stradegy, they were both bursting into another empty apartment.

It was the right one, the voice was loud and threatening. By they time Athos turned the corner and found the source of the aggression Porthos already had his hands on the perpetrator and as Porthos pulled, causing the man to stumble backwards, the full scene was revealed to Athos. On the floor Aramis and Alexei were sitting there huddled up against each other. Aramis had a protective arm around Alexei and the second his eyes settled on Athos the look of relief on his face was obviously. Athos felt the same from seeing Aramis again.

Athos went straight over and fell to his knees. He immediately reached for Aramis who let go of Alexei and flung himself into Athos' arms. Athos held him tightly, squeezing the life out of the man until a thump and a 'fuck' from Porthos caused Athos to pull away and turn on instinct. Porthos was holding his eye and the man who had obviously hit him was running for the door. Athos for a split second thought about going after him but his overwhelming urge was to make sure that Aramis was alright. Porthos didn't seem too bothered either, he dropped his arm and, even with a sore eye half-closed, swiftly came over and fell to his knees next to Athos.

“Aramis, you alright?” he asked, reaching out and stroking Aramis' arm.

Aramis nodded and then, as if suddenly remembering about Alexei, turned to check on his friend.

“Alexei, it's okay, Athos and Porthos are here now.”

Alexei remained with his legs tucked up tightly against his chest but he did peek over his knees to look at them. He appeared to be rather less pleased to see them than Aramis clearly was.

“You're not hurt?” Porthos was asking Aramis, fingers now stroking through Aramis' hair.

Aramis shook his head adamantly and attempted to get up.

“No, I'm fine, honestly, he was just yelling.”

Athos moved back to give Aramis the space to stand and decided to get up himself if that was what Aramis was doing. Soon they were all standing apart from Alexei who didn't seem to want to leave the floor.

“Who was that man?” Athos asked curiously, trying to get an understanding of the situation.

“Hugo,” Aramis explained. “I've not met him before today but Alexei was telling me about him. Hugo's the one who mugged those men.”

Athos raised an eyebrow. Hugo and Alexei. How was he going to handle this? He didn't want it come from them, he didn't want Aramis to be angry at them so he decided to try and see if Alexei would admit to being involved.

“Is that true?” he looked down and asked.

Alexei nodded. “I...it was his idea. Quick money he said and he promised we wouldn't hurt anyone.”

Athos was both satisfied and saddened by Alexei's admission of guilt. There had been a small part of him which was hoping that they were wrong about Alexei being caught up in it all. He couldn't bare to look at Aramis for a moment, he didn't want to see the reaction on his face so he continued to gaze down at the Russian.

“But you did hurt people. One of them is still unconscious in hospital.”

Alexei's expression changed and he tilted his head to stare right up at Athos. “What? We never...I mean Hugo bashed them around a little but not much. Hospital? How...”

“The one down Rue St Denis,” Athos explained.

Alexei creased his face in confusion which seemed, on the surface, to be very convincing. “What one down Rue St Denis? I don't know anything about that one.”

“Doesn't matter,” Athos said, suspecting that Alexei was telling the truth but not knowing for sure. “We need to take you down to the station.”

“No,” Aramis gasped, obviously shocked by what was happening. He tried to step forward in front of Athos but Athos had already bent down to take hold of Alexei's arm. Thankfully Alexei didn't struggled, he just allowed Athos to pull him up.

“Athos, what are you...”

Athos had to turn then. He quickly discovered the anguish on Aramis' face and felt personally to blame for it.

“We need to question him, Aramis, I'm sorry.”

He didn't hold onto Alexei's arm too tightly but he did hold onto it until he got into the back of the car with Alexei with Porthos and Aramis sitting in the front. Porthos was attempting to engage in conversation with Aramis but Aramis sat there the entire time with his arms folded and not saying a word. He was angry with them but Athos knew they could only deal with that issue after they had dealt with Alexei.

They all went back to the station and, as Athos had Alexei booked in, Porthos and Aramis disappeared off somewhere. Athos could feel his anxiety levels rising but he tried to focus on his job, be professional. Once Alexei was on the system and had been searched, Athos asked the custody sergeant if Alexei could taken straight into an interview room and be given a hot drink.

Once Alexei had been temporarily taken off his hands Athos went to look for the other two but couldn't find them anymore and he had to calm his anxiety by washing his hands. He darted into the bathroom and frantically pumped cheap hand-soap all over his fingers. Then he scrubbed furiously, needing to get all of the filth from the abandoned apartment block off his skin.

He ignored the scrutinizing glance he received from one of the uniformed cops and continued until he had washed his hands intensely five times. Then he patted them dry with the paper towels, his skin was stinging and slightly painful but he knew that feeling would pass.

The second he stepped back out into the corridor he almost went straight into Porthos.

“There you are,” Porthos said tenderly. “Should have thought about looking for you in the bathroom first.”

“How's Aramis?” Athos asked, it was the only thing he cared about for the moment.

“He's heading off home. He's not happy with us but...I don't know. This isn't your fault, okay? You just wanted to protect him and he ignored you and almost got hurt. We'll talk to him when we get back.”

“And you're sure he's going home?” Athos asked, somewhat frightened that Aramis would just leave and they'd never seem him again.

“Yeah, yeah. He mentioned something about Frodo being on his own. He's going home, I had to trust him on that one.”

Athos was surprised that Porthos had just let Aramis leave but there wasn't much Athos could do about it now. As much as his heart was telling him to go home first and talk to Aramis, Alexei was currently sitting in an interview room probably scared and they had to deal with that as well.

“Let's go and interview Alexei,” Athos suggested. The sooner they got what they wanted the faster they could get home after all.

When they entered the interview room Alexei was clutching at a now empty polystyrene cup.

“Would you like more?” Porthos asked before he pulled back a chair but Alexei shook his head so they both sat down.

“Before we start, Alexei...” Athos began. “...would you like a lawyer? If you can't afford one then we can appoint for you.”

Alexei shook his head so Athos reached out for the digital recording device on the wall and began recording. He said the day and time, introduced all of the people in the room and explained that the defendant had turned down the offer of a lawyer. Then they were set. Athos took a moment though to study the young Russian sitting in front of them. He wasn't as pale as he had been when they had met before. He wasn't sweaty or shivering either which Athos suspected meant that he had taken drugs not so long ago.

“So, is the prostitution business not working out for you anymore?” Athos asked bluntly because going soft on the guy wasn't going to get them very far. “You're stealing from people now?”

Alexei looked small sitting in the chair, perhaps due to the way he had sunk down into it. He didn't answer Athos' question.

“How many people have you stolen from?”

“Two,” came the small voice. “I'm sorry.”

“Bit late for that, mate,” Porthos said from the chair beside Athos. Athos leaned forward in his seat and rested his elbows down onto the table.

“Who did them with you? Hugo? Who else? We know it was three people.”

“Another...another man. A rent-boy.”

“Name?”

Alexei went quiet again so Athos sighed and sat back.

“Did he work in Marsac's brothels like you did?”

Alexei shook his head but still wasn't even looking at them.

“No, he...he works the streets.”

“Is that what you're doing again?” Porthos asked.

Alexei finally looked at them. Athos knew that many poets and writers claim that you could tell a lot about a person by their eyes. Athos wasn't sure if that was true but he could tell one thing from looking into Alexei's, the kid was tired. His pupils were wide, his eyes blood-shot and he had heavy black bags framing them. Athos wanted to do nothing more in that moment than to take Alexei home and give him a warm bed to sleep in. But that wasn't possible and Alexei was nodding and rubbing at what Athos assumed were needle-marks on his arm underneath his dirty sweater.

“Because Marsac's brothels all shut down?” Athos questioned. It was their fault but Alexei couldn't have been safe in the brothel either, especially when they were paying him with drugs.

Alexei nodded again but this time also spoke.

“I think some people went to work in another place but...no-one asked me so I...I just do what I have to do. I'm sorry, I know robbing is wrong. I know taking things from people is wrong but I just can't...I can't keep doing things with all the men. I'm tired, I just can't. I don't like it. I don't want to do it anymore.”

Lowering his head he covered his eyes with his hands and he began to silently sob. Athos glanced over at Porthos who looked sadly back but this couldn't be another Aramis, they couldn't help everyone. Porthos would want to do but Athos knew better.

“Alexei, Rue St Denis, is that there the new brothel has started?”

“I don't know,” he whispered through the fingers and the tears.

  
It was Porthos' turn to lean forward now. He lowered his large stature to try and get closer to Alexei's eye level even though Alexei's eyes were currently hidden.

“Well look, mate, this is your first arrest and you've been good enough to admit to it all. Don't be scared, alright? If you tell the judge what you told us earlier about it being Hugo's idea and Hugo being the one who did all the beating, you'll probably just get a bollocking from a judge and some community service or a very short jail sentence. So don't be sacred, alright?”

Alexei did nod a little and sniffed loudly. Athos suddenly wished that they had brought some tissues into the room but then he noticed the napkin sitting beside the empty coffee cup and reached across to push it towards Alexei.

“Blow your nose,” he requested and Alexei lowered his hands obediently and did just that. Then Athos waited until Alexei had calmed himself down.

“There is another way we can almost guarantee that you won't get a jail sentence...you could help us by making an official statement about working in the brothel that Marsac ran and how you were paid in drugs.” Athos figured it was worth a try but Alexei immediately shook his head.

“No, no, I'm not doing that.”

“Alexei, we need you,” Athos pointed out, being entirely honest. “Otherwise he'll get out and be back on the streets again, hurting people....hurting Aramis.”

Okay it was a low-blow but perhaps one which would work. Aramis certainty seemed to care about Alexei for some reason and perhaps that meant Alexei also cared about Aramis.

“Aramis was always so nice to everyone,” Alexei said, reminiscing more to himself than anything. “You had to prove yourself on the street first before you could even work in one of the brothels. It felt like winning the lottery when you were picked. No more standing around on the cold streets, no more being driven off in strangers cars to somewhere unfamiliar or being dragged down alleyways where you didn't even know if you would come back out. In the brothel people came to you and all you had to do was yell for help if you needed it and someone would come running. Although I was put into a different brothel at first which didn't feel safe at all...I was scared there. The madame said that she'd talk to Gilles about having me moved. I was worried they'd just kick me back out onto the streets but I was moved to another place which was better, where Aramis worked...”

Athos and Porthos remained silent. Alexei was talking, they didn't want him to stop.

“...I didn't really speak to him very much to be honest. No-one did very much. We all knew that he spent a lot of time with Marsac and so I guess we were worried that Aramis would tell Marsac everything we were saying. So we all gave him a bit of a wide-berth, none of us made friends with him but that didn't stop him from being kind all of the time. Whenever someone got hurt, Aramis always patched them up. Whenever someone was upset, Aramis always comforted them. I thought there was something wrong with him actually, I thought he was messed up in the head. I mean how could he be that nice? We all knew he'd been working in brothels for a long time and no-one fucks people for a living for that long and still be as nice as he is. I thought he was crazy...delusional. Maybe he is.”

Alexei stopped talking then and there was silent for a while as Athos, and he assumed Porthos, let everything Alexei just said sink in. Aramis...was Alexei right? Was there something wrong with him? Was he so far into his denial that he was delusional? Athos didn't think so. Athos liked to think that they knew Aramis pretty well by now. He tried to get his thoughts back on track to seize the opportunity.

“If Marsac gets found not guilty he'll come after Aramis again,” he warned.

“Then why did you arrest him if you can't keep him in jail?” Alexei asked and Athos knew that was a valid question.

“We had someone who knew a lot that was willing to testify, but then he disappeared and we can't find him. We suspect he just did the deal because it was his chance to be let off and escape. Either way, we're struggling now with getting enough evidence to convict him of everything.”

“He's probably dead, this person who was going to testify,” Alexei pointed out. “Have you considered that?”

Athos realised that Alexei had a point but, before he could contemplate that option for too long, Porthos spoked again.

“We could get you into rehab, Alexei. A good one. Somewhere in another part of France where you could start all over again. You're ain't going to get many chances in life like this, mate. Hell even us cops don't offer this lightly. But this is your second-chance, handed to you on a silver plate. But De le Fere and I can't force you to do it. This is your choice. You need to decide what you want to do with your future. You can either do the community service or do time in jail then be thrown back out onto the street where nothing would have changed and you'll be back to doing what you need to do to get money for drugs again. Or you can actually sort yourself this time. Get clean, start again, get help. There are people that want to help and there are good places to go. I ain't saying it'll be easy but if you're ready for it, if you want to do it so badly that you're willing to do anything to get clean and stay clean, it will work. I've seen it before. I've seen people beat their addictions. What do you say? What do you want your future to be?”

It wasn't until they were in the car and heading back home that Athos realised how utterly drained he felt. They hadn't eaten all day but all Athos wanted to do was get into a hot shower and wash everything off. His body felt putrid from everything they had seen, heard and experienced from going into the drug-den apartment block to listening to Alexei talk about Aramis in the brothel; how they all gave him a wide-berth, how no-one wanted to be friends with him and yet he was kind to them all anyway. The horribleness of it all was making Athos' skin feel contaminated. He needed to wash it all off.

He began to scratch at his hands although he tried to be subtle about it so the equally quiet Porthos, who was now sporting a black-eye, wouldn't notice.

When they finally reached their house it was dark but someone was home as the light from the living-room was shining through the curtains. The house was warm when they stepped inside but they didn't receive much of a greeting. Aramis was in the house, he was sitting on the floor in the living-room leaning against the foot of the armchair, knees bent up with a book resting on top of them. He didn't even look up when they came into the room. Frodo was lying by Aramis' side and at least wagged his tail at them but even the dog seemed to sense that they had done something to upset his master so didn't make a huge effort to be overly friendly.

“I need to wash,” Athos warned Porthos quietly which made Porthos nod in sympathy.

“I know but let's all quickly talk first, ay?” Porthos requested and went over to sit at the foot of the sofa-bed facing Aramis.

“You alright, mate?” Porthos asked but Aramis just ignored him. Even Athos, with his generally terrible ability to understand human emotion, could tell that Aramis was pissed off. Aramis continued to read or at least pretend to read, turning over a page of the book.

Athos didn't really know what to do or say so sat down onto the bed close to Porthos and rubbed his hands together, trying to resist the urge to scratch all of the filth off even though they were irritating him like crazy.

“Aramis,” Porthos was trying to get his attention. “Are you mad at us for arresting Alexei? Because you know that's what we do, right? We're detectives, we had to arrest him.”

Still no response.

Porthos sighed and slid off the bed to sink down onto the carpet to get down to Aramis' level. Athos personally would have left Aramis to his sulking but he knew that Porthos couldn't deal with anyone being upset with him, not even for a second. Porthos always wanted to make things better, he was quite the sensitive soul.

“Aramis, will you talk to me? Tell me why you're upset. You know we'll always listen to you.”

Aramis just continued to read and seemingly continued to ignore them but then, a few seconds later, as if he couldn't help himself he spoke.

“You know why I'm upset.”

Porthos nodded slowly. “But do you understand why we had to do it?”

“I know Athos lied to me,” Aramis pointed out which immediately made Athos squeeze his hands together tightly. He had only lied to keep Aramis safe, he didn't see anything wrong in that.

“And you know I told you not to help,” Athos pointed out, his voice sounding angrier than he had meant for it to sound. He actually got a glance from Aramis over the top of his book though before the gaze disappeared again.

“For once I think Athos was in the right,” Porthos said which left Athos half relieved and half annoyed. “He didn't want you to know that Alexei was in trouble. He didn't want you to worry. You shouldn't have even seen those sketches in the first place. Athos did the right thing not telling you the truth because he was protecting you.”

“I don't need protecting,” Aramis mumbled.

Porthos, clearly getting frustrated at the lack of eye-contact, crawled over to Aramis and reached out for the book. Aramis frowned at first but then let Porthos take the book away and finally Aramis was probably looking at him.

“I'm not saying that,” Porthos pointed out. “But, when you care about someone, you want to keep them safe and protect them, it's very natural.”

“Is it?” Aramis asked, still with a grumpy tone but Athos thought he could hear a hint of curiosity in the question as well.

“Yes, Aramis, I'm sorry,” Athos said. He knew from many years of experience that apologising was often helpful if you meant it or not. “I didn't want you to get involved in case you got hurt.” That part was the truth.

There was silence for a while as Aramis just stared over at him until Aramis got up onto his feet and came over to Athos. As Aramis approached Athos realised that Aramis wasn't looking at his face but at something down on his lap.

“Stop doing that,” Aramis pleaded and knelt down to grab Athos' wrists. Athos stared down at his own lap and noticed that his hands were covered in inflamed red marks. He hadn't even realised that he had been scratching.

“Please stop that,” Aramis pleaded and looked up at Athos now with sadness in his eyes.

“Take him upstairs,” he heard Porthos suggest. “Help him get into the shower.”

Aramis tugged at his wrists and Athos found himself standing up. Aramis didn't let go of one of his wrists until they were in the bathroom and Aramis stepped into the shower to turn the water on.

“Lets get you washed, it'll make you feel better,” Aramis said tenderly and then began to undress Athos. Athos stood there and lifted his arms at the right moment and stepped out of his clothes when he was meant to. Aramis was as tender as Porthos and it had Athos entranced.

Before he even knew what was happening he was stepping naked into the shower and the water was glorious. He closed his eyes and stepped underneath the spray, he could feel the thick coating of dirt falling away from his skin. He grabbed the shower-gel and began to rub it all over. A few moments later another pair of hands were helping massage the suds in and Athos turned to Aramis who had joined him. Aramis offered a small smile and Athos gave one back then, together, they washed everything off Athos' until he felt normal again.

“Thank you,” Athos whispered once he could finally speak. Aramis smiled and then gently stroked Athos' cheek with his fingers before leaning forward to seek a kiss. Athos closed his eyes and accepted it happily. His fingers found the slippery wet skin of Aramis' hip and he held onto it as their mouths moved in unison and their tongues flickered against each other. Athos found himself wanting Aramis so badly in that moment. He tugged at the wet body and pulled Aramis against him. He heard a tiny yelp and then the lips were back, kissing vigorously and desperately. He let his hands explore, sliding over the wet skin, touching every part of Aramis he could reach. When he found Aramis' arse-cheeks he gave them a squeeze which caused Aramis to groan. Aramis liked that then. When Athos slipped a wet finger into Aramis the man liked it even more. He pulled his mouth away and whimpered.

“I am sorry,” Athos whispered, his eyes closed, fucking Aramis with his finger, sliding it in and out.

“I'm sorry as well,” he heard a gasp back. “Please, Athos...please.”

Athos obliged and briefly opened his eyes, blinking under the splash of the water, to find the lubrication which they always kept on the shower shelf. Athos reached for it although he found that his hand was shaking, but he managed to grab it and then he pulled his finger out of Aramis so he could pour some lubrication onto all of his fingers.

“Turn around,” Athos requested and Aramis immediately did so. He reached out and placed his hands on the shower wall.

“Please, Athos,” Aramis continued to beg. “I love you.”

Athos heard a sob then and Aramis had bent forward and was placing his forehead against the wall. He appeared to be overwhelmed with emotion which made Athos step forward and press his body firmly up against Aramis' back.

“I love you too,” he whispered into Aramis' ear which had Aramis crying. And, as Aramis' body shook, Athos held him from behind.

“Is Alexei going to jail?” Aramis whispered at some point.

“Probably not,” Athos said honestly. “He'll be at the police-station over-night but we're going to help him. Or at least we're going to try and help him and he's going to help us.”

Aramis was quiet again until he began to move his backside up against Athos' groin and moan.

“Please, Athos...I need you in me.”

Athos was happily to oblige. He opened Aramis up with his fingers, just two in at first, slipping, stretching and getting Aramis wet. Aramis moaned and whimpered and thrust his hips back and forth, fucking himself on Athos' hand, calling his name and begging loudly for more. But Athos tried to be patient. Once three fingers were easily slipping in and out of the shameless body Athos couldn't stand it any longer. He rubbed whatever lubrication which was left over his own leaking erection and then pushed his chest up against Aramis' back, opened up Aramis' arse cheeks with one hand whilst guiding himself into Aramis with the other. Once he was pushing into the tight ring of muscle Aramis cried out in pleasure so loudly that Athos was certain the entire street heard.

Athos tried to take it slow but Aramis was shoving his arse back and impaling himself onto Athos and it wasn't long before Athos had slipped deep inside. Aramis felt as beautiful as he looked and Athos took a moment to kiss the man's shoulder as he remained nestled inside the body.

“You're wonderful,” Athos told him, wanting to make sure that Aramis realised that. “You really are.”

Aramis let out a whine and shivered against Athos' chest. Athos began to rock his hips slowly, just pumping back and forth an inch or two. It appeared to drive Aramis mad and the man immediately whimpered, his muscles tightening which made Athos' head spin.

“Relax,” he requested knowing he would explode in a millisecond if Aramis kept on squeezing like that.

Aramis didn't seem able to so Athos began to thrust his hips a little harder, pumping in and out of Aramis which gave Aramis no option but to give in and accept the intrusion.

“Athos...” Aramis repeated in a state of delirium. “Athos...Athos...”

Athos began to time his plunging with the gasping of his name until his thrusts came faster and harder and his body began to slap up against Aramis' arse-cheeks. He held onto Aramis' slippery wet body as he pounded into it before reaching around and finding Aramis' own erection. He wrapped his fingers around it and began to pump frantically.

“No, Athos...” he heard Aramis gasp which almost made him stop until Aramis continued. “No...yes, Athos, yes...oh god yes.”

Aramis was gasping and groaning and tensing with euphoria before his screams reached their peak and he seemed to do the same thing. Athos could feel his hand suddenly getting covered as Aramis exploded with his orgasm. Athos didn't stop pumping until Aramis' body began to relax. Then he slowed down his strokes and slowed down his thrusting to give Aramis a chance to recover.

Aramis was panting then, coming down from his orgasm he rested his forehead against the shower wall once more.

“You're so loud,” Athos pointed and couldn't help but chuckle. Aramis was soon doing the same thing, now his shoulders were shaking with laughter instead of sadness. He sank down a little and pushed out his backside.

“So are you,” Aramis pointed out which had Athos wondering. He had been paying so much attention to the delicious noises Athos was making he hadn't realised that he had probably been making some of his own. “Please, Athos, do it nice and hard again. I want to feel you finish inside me.”

Athos got a good grip of Aramis' hips and began to ram into Aramis' arse again. He did it hard as Aramis had asked, his body slapping loudly up against Aramis' again and again. Aramis felt hot and tight and it wasn't long before Athos had built himself up into a frantic rhythm of pounding.

“Do it, Athos, please, I love you,” Aramis encouraged. “I want to be yours. I want to belong to you and Porthos'.”

Athos was too close to his orgasm to really respond and, after a few more plunges into Aramis, he found his groin getting hot and he came furiously, deep inside of Aramis just as the man asked. Aramis groaned as he felt it and appeared to delight in the sensation. Athos panted then and felt dizzy but he wanted to reassure Aramis of one thing. He reached out and gathered Aramis up in his arms, pulling him back against his chest. He could feel Aramis' own chest heaving.

“You don't belong to us, you don't belong to anyone anymore. But we want you with us. We want that more than anything,” Athos whispered.

There was silence for a while, just the sound of the water pouring over them until Aramis finally spoke.

“I want to go to court and tell people what Marsac did.”


	44. The Borrowed Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Thank you for your endless patience and support! I'm aiming to get this story finished by the summer which may mean some time jumps but I don't think that's a bad thing as the story needs to move forward. There's still quite a few more chapters in this beast yet though so I hope you continue to enjoy it.]

Athos was stunned into silence as that was the last thing he had expected Aramis to suddenly blurt out. He automatically gripped the naked body tighter which Aramis didn't appear to mind. 

“In court you mean?” Athos asked, needing to clarify, wanting to make sure that he had just heard Aramis correctly. 

Aramis didn't answer the question verbally but he nodded, his wet curls brushing up against Athos' face.

“What made you change your mind?”

Aramis didn't seem keen to answer that question either and Athos was getting frustrated by the fact he could only see the back of Aramis' head and not his face so he let his arms relax and he took a step back. He wanted to ask more questions but his rather unsuccessful past attempts at trying to get Aramis to talk reminded him that it might be best to leave it until they were with Porthos who was still currently downstairs.

“Come on,” Athos suggested and kissed Aramis' shoulder affectionately before washing them both again. Aramis did at least spend the whole time smiling as Athos rubbed the shower gel into his skin to make absolutely sure that they were both all clean.

They eventually left the shower once Athos' OCD was satisfied. Aramis then spent some time examining Athos' scratched hands with a sad pout before rubbing in the aloe vera gel which Porthos always liked to use. It did make Athos' hands feel less sore although he wasn't sure if that was the aloe vera gel or the soft massage of Aramis' fingers. 

When they went into the bedroom Athos watched as Aramis went for his very small selection of clothes which he had in Porthos' wardrobe. It made Athos feel rather guilty, they had only taken him clothes shopping the once, he still barely had anything. Although he had told them he was going clothes shopping that morning...

“Aramis, borrow some of my clothes,” Athos suggested when it became clear that the only clean thing Aramis had to wear was one of his old jumpers he had brought with him which Athos seemed to recall was covered in holes.

“Porthos said that I shouldn't,” came the sheepish response which made Athos feel ashamed.

“No, no it's fine. I'm funny about them being organised and clean but I don't have a problem with you borrowing something. Look, here...”

Athos went over and opened up his wardrobe where there were three shelves which had sweaters and hoodies carefully folded and colour co-ordinated. Not that Athos was very adventurous with colours; they were mostly black, blue and green. He pulled out a blue one and held it out to the topless man.

“You can borrow this one, if you like?”

Aramis grinned from ear to ear and eagerly slipped the hoodie on over his head and then cuddled himself with it, before pulling it up and sniffing it. Athos had no-idea why he was sniffing the hoodie, perhaps Aramis was also checking if it was clean.

“Just put it into the washing basket once you've finished wearing it,” Athos instructed, just in case Aramis had some crazy idea of putting it back into the wardrobe without it being washed first. 

Athos then set about getting himself dressed, putting on some equally comfortable clothes considering he assumed they wouldn't be going out again unless the dog needed to be walked.

“Come on, Porthos will think we've both drowned,” Athos said and then left the bedroom with Aramis following.

They headed down the stairs but, as they approached the living-room, Athos' stomach suddenly did a flip as something suddenly occurred to him; what if Porthos had heard them upstairs and was angry that they hadn't invited him? Should they have invited him? Athos began to worry that they had been a little selfish, not that he had really been thinking at all logically between the threatening panic attack and the make-up sex. Still he didn't want to upset Porthos, that was the last thing he ever wanted to do. Porthos was so kind and patient and...grinning the moment he spotted them. He knew. He knew and he was smiling.

It began to dawn on Athos that usually Porthos helped him deal with his panic attacks but Porthos had purposely encouraged Aramis do it on that occasion. Porthos must have known full-well that they would both end up in the shower together. Porthos had planned it.

“All good?” Porthos asked, the smile not leaving his face as he turned back to whatever meal he was creating on the oven hob.

“All good,” Athos responded, having not figured out in time if he should be annoyed at Porthos or thank him. But then he remembered what he really needed to tell his boyfriend. “But umm...Aramis wants to go to court to testify against Marsac.”

Porthos did a decent job of not letting his shock show apart from dropping the spatula into the wok.

“He...oh okay. We should talk about that over dinner. I'm just doing stir-fry, it'll be done in a bit. Why don't you both set the table?”

Athos did as he was told but Aramis walked over to Porthos and went in for a hug. Porthos appeared to oblige and wrapped a semi-spare arm around Aramis.

“Hey, buddy. You smell nice and clean,” Porthos said cheerfully. 

"Athos cleaned me," Aramis explained. Aramis didn't seem to want to go let go of Porthos so Athos set the table by himself and put a jug of water out for them all. Eventually Aramis came over to the table and sat down as Porthos served up dinner.

“You wanna say grace?” Porthos asked Aramis once they had all settled.

Aramis smiled, closed his eyes and thanked God for their food despite the fact God had nothing to do with growing it, selling it, buying it or cooking it as far as Athos was concerned. Still the prayer was charming and even ended with Aramis thanking God for the fact they were all going to live together in the apartment, which Athos found rather sweet.

“So what made you decide that you wanna testify, Aramis?” Came Porthos' noble attempt at getting an answer to the same question Athos had asked in the shower. “You're not just doing it to please us, are you?”

“No,” Aramis said and it did sound like he was being honest as he twisted noodles onto his fork.

“Was it something to do with Alexei?” Was Porthos' follow-up question which had more success.

“Maybe...sort of. I made the choice a while ago to help and I realised today that we haven't finished yet.”

Athos thought about Aramis' answer silently. Perhaps everything with Alexei had served as a rather shocking reminder to Aramis what Marsac's prostitution and drugs business had done to some people. Something about it had obviously affected Aramis.

“And you understand what testifying against Marsac means, right?” Porthos asked. “What you're gonna have to do?”

Aramis nodded, he hadn't started eating yet and was just staring down at the food; not that Porthos had given him a chance to eat with all of the questions. 

“People will ask me questions and I have to be honest.”

“That's right,” Porthos nodded. “There will be two people asking you questions and one will be nice but the other one won't be, it's important you know that. Marsac's lawyer might not say nice things and he'll probably try to make you upset or angry.”

Aramis appeared to think for a moment before he raised his head to look at Porthos. 

“Will it be the man who helped me before?”

Helped him?...of course, Anne had told them that Aramis had been arrested a couple of times and Marsac always sent his lawyer to get Aramis out of trouble. The only time he didn't do that was the last time because Marsac was angry at Aramis, Athos assumed. 

“Possibly,” Athos admitted. “We could find out for you. Is that a problem?”

Aramis shook his head and lifted up his fork to put food into his mouth. Porthos glanced over at Athos with what Athos interpreted as a 'this is unexpected' look. They all ate silently for a couple of minutes until Porthos spoke again.

“It's very brave of you to want to do this, Aramis. I honestly think you're doing the right thing. Athos and I will support you the entire time but...well...it might be best if you kept our relationship a secret. You should be honest about everything else but...well maybe just don't mention that part.”

Aramis nodded firmly. “I know. I understand.”

Porthos smiled at him before scooping up some food with his own fork. Athos had thrown out the chop-sticks after Porthos had spent an entire evening laughing at Athos' attempt at using them. So, in order to avoid the teasing humiliation once again, he had 'lost' the chop-sticks and Porthos continued to forget to buy more, much to Athos' relief.

“But you be honest about everything else,” Porthos continued. “That really is all you need to do. We can arrange for you to meet the Anne next week, the lawyer. She can talk to you about what happens in court and maybe do some practice questions with you.”

“Okay,” Aramis said. 

Athos felt proud of Aramis. He knew how adamant Aramis had been about not testifying so just the fact that Aramis had changed his mind and was willing to give it a try, Athos thought was incredibly brave. But there was one thing which he needed to check before they dropped the conversation completely...

“Aramis, you know that Marsac will be in the court-room, don't you? He won't be-able to say anything to you when you're testifying, but he will be there.”

“I know.”

Aramis did appear to understand what he was offering to do and how it all worked. That was something at least. 

“That won't be easy,” Athos said, trying to get something more expressive from Aramis. He was beginning to understand how Porthos must have felt when Athos was being uncooperative with words.

“No,” Aramis nodded. “But you'll be there as well, won't you? You'll be in the room?”

“Yes. One of us might also have to testify which means we can't sit in the court-room until we've given our own evidence but we can try and make sure that happens first so that we'll both be in the room when you take the stand.”

Aramis ate more of the stir-fry but he was listening and nodding. 

“Do you have any questions about it? Like Porthos said we'll arrange for you to meet Anne, she'll be very pleased that you want to help.”

“Okay I'll meet her,” Aramis mumbled with his mouth half-full.

Athos decided to stop asking questions because Aramis didn't appear to want to have an in-depth discussion about it over dinner and Athos felt like they had spoken enough about it for the time-being. Porthos obviously felt the same as he continued to tuck into his own dinner and eventually began talking about the new apartment, asking Aramis if he could remember what colour the walls of the bedrooms were because they'd have to buy bed-sheets, duvet covers and pillow-cases to match. As much as Athos needed at least twenty different bed-sheets in the house in order to cope with life, making sure that they matched the walls he was less bothered about.

Athos was just finishing his meal when his mobile phone began to vibrate. He politely exhausted himself from the table before answering it. It was the hospital; Pierre was conscious but he was tired and groggy. The nurse suggested that they wait until the morning before conducting an interview. Athos wasn't too upset because he didn't have much of an urge to leave the house to go back to work, but he was still curious about the case.

“Pierre's awake,” Athos explained when he returned to the table. “Nurse suggested we talk to him in the morning.”

Porthos sighed in the loudest way he possibly could. “We're not gonna get a day off for a while, are we? We gotta sort out Alexei tomorrow and put a call out for Hugo...” He briefly glanced at Aramis whose head had just perked up. “...but yeah, no work talk at the table.”

Athos didn't respond to the comment about the day off. He knew full well that they weren't so great at keeping track of their hours and taking the correct amount of time off. Thankfully Treville seemed to just leave them to it.

“Aramis, what do you wanna do this evening?” Porthos then asked and it didn't seem to take Aramis long to come up with an answer. 

“Can we all lie on my bed and watch a movie?” Aramis requested with a grin. 

Porthos chuckled. “That's all we ever do. We seriously need to get some hobbies. What happened to your guitar? I haven't even seen it since you moved in with us. What did you do with it?”

“It's in the cupboard under the stairs,” Aramis replied sheepishly.

“Well you should get it out and play it sometime. I'd love to hear you play. And we need to do more things...like go out and do stuff. It's not good for us just working and watching movies all the time. I know we go out sometimes with Frodo but that's not quite...”

“I liked going to the cinema!” Aramis pointed out.

“Yeah that was good. We should all think of more things to do like that. We could start a list. Athos, you and I did lots of stuff together back when we first started dating. You took me to museums and art galleries and I took you to gigs and jazz bars other things which traumatised you. It was fun.”

“Jazz bars?” Aramis asked with interest.

“Yeah, there's some great jazz bars in Paris. I'll have to take you sometime.”

Aramis appeared to be very excited by the prospect, Athos didn't feel excited at all and was rather relieved when Aramis got distracted by searching for a movie as they tidied up after dinner.

Despite the fact it was Aramis' idea to watch a movie the man himself, as usual, fell asleep half-way through the film. Not that Athos minded, he rather enjoyed having Aramis' arm around him and Aramis' head resting on his chest using it as a pillow. Aramis' leg was across Porthos' lap, he clearly didn't want either of them to leave without him knowing about it. Athos found himself stroking Aramis' hair gently as his thoughts drifted to the impending trial. If Alexei was able to stay clean and testify and Aramis was able to go to court as well...surely that meant they had a good chance of getting Marsac locked up for a good while? And, if Marsac was locked up, then he wouldn't be-able to get to Aramis. 

Athos was brought out of his thoughts by fingers gently stroking his arm. Upon realising he wasn't paying any attention to the movie anyway, he turned his head and discovered Porthos smiling at him.

“You doing okay?” Porthos whispered.

“I'm fine,” Athos replied.

“I'm gonna ban that word,” Porthos huffed and began to draw circles on Athos' arm. “How you really doing?”

Athos paused for a moment to think but he didn't have to think for long because, rather surprisingly, words began to tumble from his mouth.

“Honestly I'm fine. But I want to get Marsac's court-case over and done with. And moving, I want to get that over and done with as well. I want to concentrate on Hector Lovitt and find out if he's the man we're looking for and I also want to find out who the third person is and I'm frustrated that things have been so busy with everything else that we haven't been-able to focus on that.”

Porthos' fingers left his arm his panicked Athos for a moment before he wondered if he had said something wrong. 

“Well that was more honest,” Porthos pointed out. “We'll get to the Hector thing. The court-case is really important right now and we need to find Hugo to close that case to make Treville happy but I haven't forgotten about Hector either, we'll work on it. Don't wanna say much more in case he wakes up...” Porthos nodded down towards the sleeping man. “...and the move, I know you're gonna find it hard but the removal men will do most of the packing and all of the work. And you really can take as much time as you need to unpack everything and sort it all out. It'll be better for us living there, it's a much bigger place. We'll get a sofa back and no-one will have to sleep in the living-room anymore.”

“I know, moving is logical.”

“And maybe we can all go on holiday after the court-case? The three of us. Get to know each other even better. You and I haven't been away for ages. We must be owed like...six months in annual leave by now.”

“Actually we lose our annual leave if we don't take it by the end of the year...” Athos pointed out but his sentence was cut-short.

“Well, whatever, but we should go somewhere nice. Take Aramis out of the country if we can get him a passport. Maybe Italy or somewhere warm.”

Athos pictured a scene with Aramis reading a book in a hammock and Porthos snoring on a sun-lounger. It was a pleasant image, especially because they were both wearing nothing but shorts. 

“That sounds nice.”

\---------------------------------------

“Any luck?” Athos asked as Porthos finally finished his phone-call to yet another rehab centre. So far they hadn't had much luck as all the private centres cost a lot of money and the free ones all had long waiting lists. But Porthos' smile gave Athos the impressed that he had managed to be successful.

“Yeah found one, down on the West coast but they can't take him until next Monday. We're gonna have to find somewhere for him to stay until then. Can't have him back out on the streets. I'll call Charon in a bit, he might be-able to help.”

Satisfied that Porthos had the Alexei situation under control, Athos himself stared at the board in the intensive care ward with some confusion, Pierre's name was no longer up there. Athos suddenly panicked that something terrible had happened to their victim until he managed to grab a nurse who reassuringly told them that Pierra had just moved to another ward. So they set about getting lost in the hospital for a little while longer which at least gave Porthos the chance to call Charon, until they finally found Pierre in a private room sitting up in bed with Pauline in a chair close-by.

“Pauline, perhaps you can go and fetch us all some coffee so we can talk to your finance in private for a while?” Athos suggested. He didn't particularly want to bring up the topic of brothels which Pauline sitting right there. She seemed hesitant to leave until Pierre reassured her that was a good idea and she eventually left them all alone.

“Would you like to tell us what happened?” Athos asked, pulling out his mini notebook as he stood beside the bed. Pierre had a long face which was marked by a nasty looking bruise down one side but, apart from that, he looked remarkably well despite his ordeal.

“I don't really remember.”

it was an unfortunate answer but perhaps not surprising given the time Pierre had spent unconscious.

“Well let's start at the beginning,” Athos suggested. “What were you doing out?”

“Shopping...for wedding things.”

“And why did you go to Rue St Denis?”

“Rue St Denis?” Pierre asked, looking a little confused.

“That's where you were found,” Porthos explained which caused Pierre to switch his attention to Porthos instead.

“I...err...I don't know.”

“Not a lot of shops down there, mate,” Porthos pointed out.

“Well that's what I was doing...shopping.”

“And what were you buying?” Athos asked.

“A few things," Pierre responded in a vague manner.

“Like what?”

Pierra paused and began to glare at them both. “Why do I feel like I'm a suspect here? I was beaten up, I'm the victim.”

“Yes you are, we just need to get a clear picture of what happened.” 

Athos tapped his small pencil against his notebook. He was beginning to get suspicious, why was Pierre holding back on the details? He decided to push a little bit.

“You are aware of the reputation of Rue St Denis?”

“No, what's that?” Pierre asked grumpily as he folded his arms across his chest.

“Pierre...” Porthos sighed. “...you were found unconscious outside a brothel.”

Instead of looking surprised or confused, Pierre just folded his arms more tightly and glared at them some more.

“I don't know anything about that. I don't know what's inside those buildings.”

“So you do remember being there now?” Athos quickly pointed out.

“No, I don't.”

“You were found at the bottom of the steps which could well imply that you were thrown out of one.”

“Of a brothel? Why would I even go into one?”

Athos raised an eyebrow. “Do you really need me to answer that?”

“I'm not pressing charges, it doesn't matter, you can just leave.”

He rolled his eyes before turning his head away from them as if he now wanted the conversation to be over. Athos was rather taken back. They could have perhaps been slightly more sympathetic though so he decided to drop the conversation of brothels for the moment, realising that he was on his own agenda with that one considering he had seen Nashiko walk out of said brothel.

“You're not pressing charges?”

“You already seem to have decided that it was my own fault. Please just leave.”

Athos sighed and lowered his notebook. “Pierre, we just need you to be honest with us, then we can help you. You were beaten very badly and we do want to find who did it.”

Pierre didn't respond with words but he gave Athos a firm glare which indicated that his decision had been made. The man's sudden stubbornness just caused Athos to feel even more curious. This didn't appear to be a simple mugging, if it was, why would Pierre not want to find out who did it and press charges?

“Was anything stolen? Have you managed to look through your possessions?” Athos tried as a last attempt.

“Just leave!” Pierre yelled so loudly that Athos jumped. He then stood there in silence for a moment, along with Porthos until the door opened and very unhappy looking nurse came in. Before she even had the chance to tell them off Porthos began to step away from the bed in defeat.

“Don't worry, we're leaving,” Porthos explained to the nurse.

“Perhaps we'll come back when you're feeling a little better,” Athos added.

“Please don't,” came the calm mutter from the man on the bed.

Athos glanced across at Porthos who shrugged and they both left the room.

“That was odd,” Porthos commented once outside.

“That was suspicious,” Athos said, amending Porthos' comment. He couldn't help but wonder if had they pushed him too far or was he covering something up? The whole thing was very odd. However, there was one person who could possible help and shed some light on Pierre's behaviour. “Let's go and find Pauline.”

It took them a few minutes to find her but eventually they caught her emerging from a small family room with a tray of coffees. Deciding not to be rude, Athos took his anyway, pleased that it was in a cupboard cup and not a mug so he didn't have to worry about cleanliness. Porthos took his coffee as well, thanking her.

“That was quick,” she pointed out, still holding onto the tray.

“Your fiance doesn't seem very keen to speak to us,” Athos explained.

“He doesn't?” She seemed genuinely surprised. 

“No, he may just be tired,” Athos suggested, trying to play it cool. “If you could talk him into making a statement though we'd appreciate it.”

“Yes...I...I'm sorry.” She began to appear apologetic with a worried look on her face. “He was a little funny when I tried to ask him if he remembered what happened as well. He didn't want to talk about it. I think maybe he just doesn't remember but he doesn't want to seem unhelpful.”

Athos suspected that wasn't why he didn't wanted to speak to them but he nodded at her anyway.

“Might just be the head injury,” Porthos pointed out, obviously also not wanting her to worry. “Let's just leave it and we'll see how he's doing in a day or two.”

Pauline reluctantly agreed but didn't seem happy about it. She left them with the worried look still on her face. Athos knew that there wasn't much point in them continuing to stick around, especially when Alexei was still sitting in a cell at the police station. 

Alexei was already suffering from withdrawal symptoms when they got him out of the cell and the Russian ended up fidgeting through-out the entire process of organising his police bail pending his first court appearance. Athos tried to clearly explain to Alexei that he would have to always be at the place he was meant to be and, any breach of any of the conditions set, would just result in him getting into even more trouble. Alexei nodded as he downed his third cup of water with a shaky hand and Athos just hoped that the kid had the sense to stay clean.

Porthos then told Alexei about the rehab centre and Charon. Alexei nodded and wiggled about and scratched at his arms like he had ants crawling beneath his skin so they got him out of the station and into the car as quickly as possible. It wasn't long before Porthos was pulling the car up outside Charon's boxing gym.

As it was the weekend the gym was busy, there was loud music pumping out of the speakers and lots of people were using various pieces of gym equipment, punch-bags and even bouncing around in the two boxing rings. Athos personally wasn't very keen on the gym, it stank of sweat and other weird smells but he really admired Charon for everything he had done with the place. The gym was having a really positive impact on the local community, serving as a place for young people to gather where it was safe and they could vent their emotions and frustrations by focusing on training in a disciplined sport. 

Alexei appeared to be nervous, his head was lowered but he was curiously glancing around the place although, when Charon spotted them and came over, Alexei froze. Sensing the situation Charon greeted Porthos first with a friendly hug and then shook Athos' head before finally properly turning to Alexei.

“And you must be Alexei, right? It's good to meet you. I've got a couple of friends who are willing to give you a bed and a place to call home until the rehab centre can take you in,” Charon explained. “But you will have to be drug-free if you stay there this week. They've had experience helping people through withdrawal so, if you're willing to do it, they're willing to help. They're good people but they also won't take any shit. If you take any drugs you'll be asked to leave.”

Alexei, who hadn't really spoken since they had left the police-station, nodded his head.

“You wanna have a go?” Charon then asked, nodding his head towards the boxing-ring. Alexei's suddenly raised his head and his face lit up. “Go into the changing-rooms, there's always spare kit in there.”

Alexei raced off towards the changing-rooms with a level of enthusiasm Athos hadn't seen in the young man before. The gym really was magic. Not that Athos understood it himself. In fact he turned to watch two young women dueling in one of the rings and flinched each time they hit each other. Even thought they had head-protection on, Athos just couldn't understand the appeal of the sport where the prime objective appeared to be knocking the other person unconscious.

“Thanks for this,” Porthos said, speaking to Charon which thankfully pulled Athos' attention back. “If he is trouble, just call me and we'll come and get him.”

“Alright I'll pass your number onto the couple who are gonna have him,” Charon said. “How's Aramis?”

“Yeah he's doing well, adjusting I think.”

Charon smiled. “Is he still working at the restaurant?”

“Yeah he is. Makes a song and dance of it each time he goes to work but he comes back happy enough. We've only had one incident to deal with so far. Don't think it'll be what he wants to do forever but it's good for his confidence to earn money doing something legal and the bloke that owns the place is great with him.”

Charon gave Porthos a pat on the shoulder. “I'm glad it's going well. I'm sorry I was worried at the beginning, but that's my job as your mate, ay?”

Porthos smiled and Athos was curious about what Charon had said at the beginning. Athos hadn't even been aware that Porthos spoke to Charon much about Aramis. Despite wondering what had been said, Athos was pleased that Porthos had both Constance and Charon to talk to about things. Porthos needed all the support he could get being in a relationship with an ex-prostitute and a workaholic, alcoholic, police detective with OCD.

Porthos and Charon continued to chat as they all waited for Alexei. Eventually the Russian came out in sweat-pants and boxing gloves. Charon got him into a ring and Alexei seems settled enough so Porthos and Athos snuck out.

“Home?” Porthos asked pleadingly. “And can we have a day off soon? You know we should really look at our work schedule once in a while. I'm fairly sure we do actually get put onto shifts which includes days off.”

“Schedule?” Athos asked, somewhat teasingly. “Looking at that would be a slippery slope because then we'd have to do our fair share of night shifts as well.”

“Oh, would we?” Porthos didn't appear to sound very impressed by the thought. “Lets keep doing our own thing...solving day crimes.”

Porthos chuckled and Athos agreed. They were lucky having a captain like Treville who let them both do their own work pattern, as long as they were working. Athos realised that they really needed to check in with Treville pretty soon.

\----------------------------------------------

The dog started barking.

“Athos!”

Athos heard him name being yelled a moment later as he sat on the bed upstairs working on his laptop. He partly ignored it, assumed he was being called to eat something.

“Athos!” Came Porthos' voice yelling again with a somewhat more panicked manner which caused Athos to shove the laptop off his legs and race out onto the landing. Frodo's barks were coming from downstairs so Athos hurried down and went into the living-room. Porthos was kneeling on the carpet next to Aramis who was lying on his side; his body stiff and shaking violently.

“Oh no.” 

It pained Athos to see Aramis like that again. It was the first fit Aramis had experienced since the doctor had increased his medication. His eyes were opened but rolled back, his neck looked strained and his back had arched. Athos just wanted to pick him up and hold him until it stopped but Porthos was there, fingers in Aramis' hair, trying to stroke his head as much as he could.

“Think he wet himself,” Porthos pointed out, sounding like he was on the verge of tears, the wobble of his bottom lip also implied that he was close to it. Athos glanced down and noticed a dark patch on Aramis' jeans. Athos went over to the bed, trying to ignore the confused barking of Frodo nearby. He picked up a pillow and then returned to Porthos.

“Here, put this underneath his head if you can.”

Porthos managed to do so and it stopped Aramis' temple from rubbing against the carpet at least. Athos glanced at his watch to time the fit. It ended up going on for almost three minutes before Aramis' body finally calmed down and, although Athos suspected that three minutes was very short for a fit, it still felt like forever.

“Hey, you're alright,” Porthos spoke soothingly, stroking back Aramis' hair tenderly. “Can you hear me?” 

Athos watched as Aramis whimpered and scrunched up his face. 

“You in pain, mate?” Porthos asked and they both patiently waited until Aramis began to properly come round.

“I'm wet,” Aramis pointed out, rolling onto his back and stretching out his limbs. “I'm sorry.”

“Oh don't worry about that,” Porthos was attempting to sound cheerful. “Not your fault. Athos will go and run you a hot bath.”

Understanding the hint Athos left them both downstairs and went up into the bathroom to turn on the hot water. Then he went to fetch his phone from the bedroom and began to google everything he could about epilepsy. There must be something more they could do to help Aramis. To just stand there and do nothing made him feel so horribly useless. 

He read about emergency medication but suspected that Aramis' fits were too short to warrant such a thing. Then he began reading about medical ID bracelets and decided that Aramis definitely needed one of those. He had no-idea what they could do if Aramis had a fit in the house alone but at least if it happened outside people would see the bracelet.

At some point whilst reading about brain surgery Athos thankfully remembered to turn on the cold water. Dunking a tired man into boiling hot water wasn't going to help the situation. By the time Porthos came up with Aramis, the water was almost at the top of the bathtub. Aramis was hanging off Porthos' shoulder and wearing nothing but wet underwear.

“Here you go, mate. Step out of your underwear and get into the bath.”

Aramis did as he was told.

“I'm gonna put your clothes in the wash and calm Frodo down,” Porthos explained. “Athos will look after you.”

Athos put his phone down beside the sink and went over to help Aramis into the bath. Aramis gripped onto Athos' shoulder tightly before slowly sinking down into the water.

“I'm sorry if it's a little hot,” Athos said.

“'s fine,” Aramis mumbled and rested his head on the back of the bath, his eyelids shutting.

“Are you alright?” Athos asked, kneeling down right beside the tub just in case Aramis fell asleep or had another fit.

“Yeah I...I'm sorry,” Aramis apologised softly. 

“If you haven't been taking your medication then I'll accept your apology. If you have then there's no need to say sorry at all.”

“I have!” Aramis responded with a bit more energy. “I think I have...I'm not always good at remembering.”

Athos sighed but decided not to give Aramis another lecture about it. “We'll come up with a system,” he suggested instead. “You can't just...forget Aramis. This is important. This is your life we're talking about.” The lecture came out after all.

Aramis nodded but kept his eyes closed so Athos decided to leave it. He'd think about a system later, something which would help Aramis to remember.

“How old were you when you started having fits?” he asked out of curiosity.

“A teenager,” Aramis told him quietly.

“Do the doctors know why? I mean they have done tests haven't they? Did they do a brain scan?”

“Yeah I...I can't remember everything. Marsac took me, he listened to what they said. They did tests and scans but they said there was nothing they could do and I just had to try taking different pills for a while.”

At least Marsac was good for something, Athos thought in his head but refrained from saying it out loud. Perhaps Aramis was right, maybe Marsac had been kind once. It was a shame that he ended up the way that he did, a pimp and drug-dealer. Although Aramis wouldn't have had medical insurance, surely? Aramis was living on the streets. And in order to have claimed free medical care, Aramis would have had to have filled in forms and apply, not easy for a street-kid with no ID or address. Did Marsac pay for all of the tests and scans in cash? But it would have cost thousands.

“Who paid for the tests?”

“Marsac.”

“He paid for them all?”

“I think so.”

It seemed strange to Athos that Marsac would have so much money back in those days. Marsac was just a street-pimp back when Aramis was a teenager, where would have gotten thousands of pounds from? In fact, whilst Athos was thinking about it, how did Marsac get the money to rent out the buildings for the brothels? They were large buildings in the heart of Paris, an expensive city. He knew that Marsac had rented out the buildings using a fake business account but he would have needed money for the deposits and some rent in advance. Something wasn't adding up.

“How did he pay for it all?” Athos asked curiously.

“He got money off someone.”

“Who?”

“I don't know.”

“He borrowed it?”

Aramis sighed and opened his eyes. “Athos, I'm tired.”

“I know, I'm sorry, but this is important. Did he borrow the money or did someone give it to him?”

“Someone gave it to him. I don't know who, I don't know,” Aramis was beginning to sound snappy but then he paused for a moment before adding. “Gilles helped him get it.”

“Gilles helped Marsac get the money?”

Aramis gave one nod and turned his head a little to look across at Athos. “I think so. I don't know much about it.”

Athos knew that he shouldn't go on but now he was really interested. He hadn't realised that Gilles and Marsac had known each other for such a long time. He had always assumed that Gilles was a new addition once Marsac's business had begun to grow so much that he needed an accountant but now Aramis was suggesting that the pair had known each other since they were much younger.

“How do Marsac and Gilles know each other?” he asked.

“They're friends.”

“From school?”

“No, I don't think so. I don't know how they met.”

Athos pondered it all for a moment. Perhaps Gilles was more of Marsac's right-hand man that he had realised. It was starting to sound like Gilles had been involved in the business since the very beginning. Nashiko's words came back to him - ' When one person goes they are quickly replaced.' What if Gilles had replaced Marsac? What if Gilles owned the new brothel? What if Gilles was the missing piece of the puzzle?

“Tell me more about Gilles,” Athos requested.

“Athos, I'm tired.”

“He must have gone to University or something I assume? I mean he was Marsac's accountant right? He must have a decent level of education.”

It seemed odd to Athos that Gilles would be at University whilst Marsac was working as a street-pimp and yet they knew each other. They were friends even. Perhaps Gilles hadn't helped Marsac get the money, perhaps Gilles had given Marsac the money?

Aramis wasn't answering so Athos continued.

“I may look into it further. The more information we have about Marsac's business, the better it'll be for Anne. I'll talk to her on Monday about it when I arrange for you to see her.”

Aramis was still being quiet so Athos turned his head to look at him. Aramis had a wet hand covering his face and his shoulders were shaking. Athos quickly realised that Aramis was crying.

“Aramis, I'm sorry,” he said, reaching out for Aramis' shoulder to give it a squeeze. Aramis had said that he was tired and Athos just continued to talk, what an idiot, he hadn't been listening again.

“I'm sorry,” Athos repeated. “I'll stop now, I won't talk about it anymore.”

Aramis nodded but continued to hide his face. Athos didn't really know what else to do so he just stroked Aramis' bare shoulder with his thumb until Aramis lowered his hand and placed it gently back into the water.

“Can I sleep for a bit?” Aramis whispered.

“Absolutely but let's get you clean first and then you can sleep in our bed.”

That made Aramis cheer up but it took a while to get Aramis out of the bath and then into clean underwear just because his muscles were clearly aching and it was causing him to move about slowly. Eventually Athos managed to get him into the bed and underneath the covers.

“Can you stay with me for a while?” Aramis asked and Athos was happy to oblige. He crawled onto the bed and wrapped his arm around Aramis. Aramis wiggled for a moment but then settled down and went still. Eventually Aramis was snoring gently so Athos slowly removed himself from the bed and tip-toed out.

As he headed down the stairs he discovered Frodo sitting at the bottom of the steps looking up pleadingly.

“No, you stay down here. He's fine, he just needs to sleep,” Athos explained then, when he walked past, realised with embarrassment that he had just tried to explain something to a dog.

When he found Porthos the washing was on and Porthos was scrolling through something on his tablet as he leaned against the kitchen counter. He lowered the tablet when Athos came into the kitchen.

“How is he?”

“Sleeping it off. I made him cry.”

Porthos appeared to not know if he should roll his eyes or grumble, so he ended up doing a little of both.

“What did you do that for?”

“It wasn't intentional,” Athos pointed out with a sigh as he pulled back a chair to sit down at the table. “I was just asking him lots of questions when I shouldn't have been because he was tired. You should just be with me at all times, I'm not good with other human-beings.”

Porthos then smiled and came over to the table as well. He squeezed Athos' shoulder before pulling back a chair and sitting down with him.

“You're fine with people, you're just still learning, like he is, like we all are if you want to get psychological about it. Oh I checked the carpet for any wet patches but it seems okay. Your OCD eyes might wanna have a look in a minute though.”

Athos briefly glanced over his shoulder back into the living-room but decided to trust Porthos on that occasion.

“We are happy that he's testifying against Marsac, aren't we?” 

The question was sudden and Athos turned back to find Porthos with a concerned look on his face.

“Yes,” Athos pointed out. “It's not going to be an easy journey but the longer Marsac stays in jail the better and having Aramis testify is going to really help the case.”

“Yeah and...well I know that often victims need justice so they can get some closure and facing people who have hurt you can really be a powerful thing, but Aramis doesn't seem to think of himself as a victim, does he? I'm worried it's just all gonna mess him up.”

Athos pondered the comment for a while. “No, I suppose you're right, I'm not sure he does see himself in that way. But isn't that a good thing?”

“I dunno,” Porthos shrugged. “I think he's going to have to face up to the reality of everything which has happened to him at some stage. But no point in pushing it I guess. He seems very content and happy with us, apart from the odd outburst. Maybe in time Ninon will help with the rest.”

Athos tried his very best not to smile. Ninon was obviously beginning to win Porthos over.

“Anyway...” Porthos was now looking down at the tablet again. “...I'm doing an online food shop. You want anything?”


	45. The Broken Elbow

Athos managed to get hold of Anne the lawyer by phone the following Monday morning. The conversation was brief as she was busy with a court case, however, she appeared to be very pleased to hear that Alexei might testify and that Aramis had changed his mind. She suggested that they bring Aramis to her office later in the week so she could talk to him.

During the days leading up to the meeting life just ticked on. With the impending move looming Porthos called in the letting agents to take pictures of their house in order to rent it out. Aramis didn't have another fit and managed to do a couple of shifts at the restaurant. He whined a little each time before going in but, as usual, came home happy enough. Aramis also went to see Ninon on his own on the Tuesday and told them both afterwards how much he liked talking to Ninon which pleased Athos very much. 

Athos phoned up the hospital twice during the week to ask the nurse if Pierre had changed his mind about giving a statement but he remained stubborn. Hugo also hadn't been spotted since they had found Alexei. Athos suspected that Hugo had done a runner. Alexei appeared, from what they heard via Charon, to be staying off drugs as he waited for his place at the rehab centre. He was suffering badly from withdrawal symptoms but he seemed to be determined to stay clean and was, so far, doing well. 

Athos and Porthos spent more time in the office during the week than they had in a long-time which appeared to please Treville. In fact they had their first Special Investigations Team meeting in long-time and Treville told them all about some general changes going on and how it would affect the team. It wasn't anything dramatic, just a few protocol adjustments, although it did sound like they would have to report into the office more often than they usually did and perhaps their case-loads would be monitored more carefully.

Spending some time in the office also gave Athos and Porthos the chance to investigate a little more about Marsac's financial situation and Hector Lovitt. D'Artagnan was eager to help with the former and brought copies of everything he could find about Marsac's fake business and the bank accounts to Athos' desk. They didn't have access to Marsac's personal accounts though so Athos left a message on Anne's phone to see if she had that information or if they'd have to apply for a court order. He knew they were running out of time as the court date was looming and they were leaving it very last minute to fully prepare the case. Athos wasn't even sure if looking into Marsac's finances would help in any way, but he was curious to find out.

Whilst Athos was busy with Marsac, Porthos spent his time researching more about Hector Lovitt and suggested that he show them his findings on Thursday morning. Although, when he and Athos walked into the small meeting room which sat to the side of their office, something else caught Athos' attention first.

“What happened?” he asked the moment he saw d'Artagnan sitting there with his arm in a white sling. 

D'Artagnan, despite his injury, was still grinning unlike his partner who had a face like thunder.

“He was being an idiot, that's what happened,” came the annoyed explanation from Constance.

That didn't fully answer Athos' question though so he sipped at his coffee, put his laptop down onto the table and tried again.

“What actually happened?”

“We literally saw this guy snatch an old lady's purse right in front of us last night!” D'Artagnan explained with his usual level of enthusiasm. “So I went after him and chased him down the street. When he dashed out into the road I slid across a car bonnet like people do in the movies...”

“Until you fell off the other side of the car and broke your elbow,” Constance pointed out. “And then I had to let the mugger go in order help you. The mugger who at least had the sense to run in-between the two parked cars, unlike you.”

Athos sat down at the table and eyed up the sling. “Should you even be in today?”

“Oh I'm fine,” D'Artagnan insisted. “I'm right-handed and I broke my left arm, so it's not a problem at all.”

“You're not in pain?” Porthos asked as he turned on his iPad.

“Nah, it's not too bad.”

At that point Constance lightly elbowing d'Artagnan's arm which caused the young man to hiss in pain and hold onto his elbow protectively.

“It does hurt. He's just being a silly sod. You tell him, Athos, he won't listen to me.”

Athos had a feeling that a domestic was going on between the two of them which he didn't want to became a part of but, as d'Artagnan had literally broken his elbow the night before...

“Perhaps go home after this meeting. You can work from home if you really want to. You should rest for a couple of days at least.”

“I'm...”

Before d'Artagnan could finish his protest Athos turned to Porthos in order to change the conversation.

“So, tell us what you know about Hector.”

Porthos glanced across at d'Artagnan but d'Artagnan didn't protest so Porthos snorted with amusement and then turned his attention back to his iPad.

“So Hector is back in America and now works for a construction company called Turner Construction who are based in Detroit, but the company he used to work for was Lakeland Construction. They're also based in America but they work in Europe and Hector was the director of their Paris office in the 90s. One of Lakeland Construction's Paris projects during this time was buying up some old flats and turned them into luxury apartments just a twenty minute walk from Saint-Jacques-du-Haut-Pas which is the church where Father Vincent was Priest.”

“And they were friends,” Athos pointed out. “We know that form the Bishop and his housekeeper.”

“Yup and I've even found to find some evidence of that connection.” He looked across at Athos. “Finally chased up those financial records from the church. They're....vague in many ways to say the least but I found three donations from Lakeland Construction to a 'church project'.”

“How much?” Athos asked.

“Ten thousand francs each time and bear in mind this was in the 90s so that's a pretty decent amount of money.”

“Do you know what the project was?” Constance asked.

Porthos shook his head. “No, the books don't go into that level of detail but we know from the Bishop that Vincent ran some youth projects, especially to help trouble-makers and kids struggling in school. And I use the word 'help' very loosely now we know what a monster he is.”

“Damn,” d'Artagnan pipped up. “So Hector's business was giving large donations to Father Vincent and we know from Aramis that more men were involved in the abuse, including an American. This is all looking very ugly.”

“It is,” Athos agreed. “It's looking like Hector was giving Vincent money towards his projects and, in return, Vincent was providing Hector with access to young boys.”

“But didn't Aramis say there was a third man?” Constance asked. 

“Yes but we haven't figured that out yet,” Athos explained.

“Yeah, I dunno,” Porthos concurred. “Spent all afternoon yesterday scanning the churches financial books but the other church donations came from the wider Catholic church, the local government and lots of donations from the congregation. Lakeland Construction was the only company which gave the church grants during that time period.”

“But this third man knew Vincent and Hector...if it is Hector...” Athos paused for a moment, it made him feel sick to his stomach just thinking about it. “...Aramis told us that Vincent took him to an empty apartment where the other two men were waiting.” Something Athos remembered something that Aramis had said. “No, no wait, Aramis definitely said that Vincent told him he needed to be nice to the men because then the men would give money to the church and they could help more people. This other man, he must have given money to the church. We need to keep looking at the records.”

Porthos nodded. “Let's do it together this afternoon. I haven't even got all the records though, there's at least two years worth which are missing. Nothing suspicious I don't think, they just couldn't find the books.”

“We'll work with what we have and maybe go down to the church next week to see if us standing there waiting will motivate them to be more enthusiastic with their looking.”

Porthos agreed and Athos was about to send them all back to work when Constance spoke up.

“Do you have a picture of Hector Lovitt?” she asked.

The question appeared to be directed at Porthos and he responded with a nod. “Umm...yeah he's on the company website.”

“Why don't you show it to Aramis?” Constance gave a bit of an apologetic shrug. “Then we'll know in two seconds if he's the person we should be going after or not.”

It hadn't occurred to Athos to do that before, probably because he knew how much Aramis hated talking about his past and how much it always upset him whenever Athos tried to get him to do so. 

“Just a suggestion,” Constance then added as she rose from her chair.

“And are we going back to Father Vincent soon?” d'Artagnan then asked as he got up from his chair as well, holding onto his broken arm.

Athos was so thrown by Constance's suggestion that it took him a moment to register what d'Artagnan had just asked.

“Umm...yes...yes we should. He has had time to think about it now. Perhaps your arm being in a sling will amuse him. We'll go in a couple of weeks.”

D'Artagnan nodded. “Just tell me when,” he said and then left following Constance leaving the other two alone in the meeting room.

“Do you think we should show Aramis?” Athos asked after a little pause of silence.

Porthos was looking down at his tablet and shrugged. “I dunno. Think he has enough to deal with at the moment with the trial coming up. Not sure we should bring up his childhood again for a while. But maybe, once the trial is over, we can think about it.” Porthos then diverted his gaze up at Athos. “It would be really helpful if we could find more victims. The more people we interview the more we'll know.”

“We could ask the local schools,” Athos suggested. “The project was set-up to help boys that were struggling at school or disruptive in school, so the schools themselves might have kept some records.”

“And we could ask Marsac,” Porthos pointed out. “Aramis was a well-behaved alter-boy but Marsac was actually involved in one of the projects. Marsac would know who some of the other boys were.”

“After the trial. We can't do much until then.” Athos let out a sigh. “It's rather crazy that we're trying to put him into jail and then we might need his help.”

“That's the weirdness of this world,” Porthos commented. “Anyway, we've only got an hour until our group session with Ninon. Come on, lets get more work done.”

When Aramis turned up for their joint counseling session he was all smiles. He had taken Frodo out for a walk and then popped down to the library where the ladies there, who seemed to have a soft spot for him from what Athos could tell, had given him a damaged book that they couldn't use anymore all about Lord of the Rings.

“It's beautiful, it's huge,” Aramis was explaining as they all sat outside Ninon's door waiting for their session. “It has all about Tolkien and who he was and how he wrote the books and then there's a page about each character and each place and it's not damaged much really, just a couple of pages were ripped out but it was only the introduction pages. If I had those pages I'd just stick them back in...”

Athos thought back to the days when Aramis used to waffle on because he was nervous, now he did it whenever he was happy. Athos just liked hearing him talk. He began to wonder what Aramis would have been like if he hadn't led the life he had; probably far more confidence and probably a bit of a charmer.

Aramis only stopped talking when the door opened and Ninon poked her head out with a smile.

“Sorry to keep you all waiting, do come in.”

They all went into the room and sat in the same seats they always sat in as they were creatures of habit, with Aramis sitting in the middle.

“And how is everyone?” Ninon asked as she closed the door and sat down herself. She looked as beautiful as always with her long blonde ringlets tumbled over her white blouse. And Athos, once again, had to silently tell himself that having a little crush on the counselor probably wasn't very helpful.

“Aramis, I know I only saw you two days ago but how have you been?”

“I'm good,” Aramis responded, sounding cheerful which made Ninon smile.

“I'm very glad to hear it. And how did work go after our talk?”

“Good!” Aramis said again. “I took food orders and drinks orders and it all went okay. No-one got mad at me.”

Ninon continued to smile and tilted her head to the side. “So how did you feel afterwards?”

“Happy,” Aramis admitted. “I had butterflies in my tummy the whole time but I did it and Tara said I had done well for my first time properly serving tables.”

Athos hadn't even realised that Aramis had progressed to waiting tables all by himself. It was obviously something that had been worrying Aramis as well if he had been speaking to Ninon about it.

“Do you feel proud of yourself?” Ninon asked.

“Proud of myself?” Aramis hesitated long enough for Ninon to have to prompt him further.

“Yes, do you?”

Athos watched Aramis shrug. Aramis never seemed to think he was good at anything, apart from blow-jobs, so it wasn't surprising that he wasn't able to admit to feeling proud of himself.

“Well let's ask Athos and Porthos. Do you two think Aramis should feel proud of himself?”

Athos hesitated with his answer but Porthos didn't.

“Absolutely. He's doing incredibly well. We're both really proud of you, so you should be proud of yourself.”

Porthos smiled and even reached out to give Aramis' hand a squeeze with caused Aramis to grin, ever the happy recipient of physical affection.

“There we go, you should remember what Porthos just said,” Ninon encouraged. “Now, gentlemen, Aramis and I had something that we wanted to talk to you both about when you came in, didn't we, Aramis? Do you remember?”

Aramis nodded but didn't say anything which appeared to indicate that he wanted Ninon to explain. Athos wished they'd had a heads up about the topic of conversation so he could have prepared himself but he knew that Ninon would be gentle, even the times when she had to be firm with Athos in the past, she had always done it in a very kind way.

“Aramis was telling me that sometimes he gets upset when you ask him lots of questions about things he doesn't want to talk about.”

Although Ninon was making the 'you' very general Athos knew full-well that she was talking about him. He wanted to sink down into his chair and hide with shame because Aramis had obviously told her about it. 

“So I just want to try something,” Ninon continued although Athos could no longer look at her. His cheeks were feeling warm and he knew that he was probably going bright red. “Porthos...” she said, which made Athos feel relieved, he didn't want everyone looking at him in that moment. “...do you have any siblings?”

“Umm not proper ones. But when I was in foster care the other kids kinda felt like siblings.”

“Aramis, how about you?”

Athos allowed himself to glance across at Aramis and noticed that Aramis and Porthos were still holding hands on the arm of Aramis' chair. 

“No I...I didn't.”

“Do you wish you had?” Ninon then asked.

Aramis didn't seem to know. He thought about it for a while and ended up shrugging.

“I guess. I don't know.”

“Porthos, how about you? Do you wish you had siblings?”

“Nah,” Porthos said. “I liked it being me and my Mum for the first few years. We were very close.”

Athos was surprised that Porthos was talking to Ninon about his childhood. Wasn't that what Porthos had been dreading Ninon would do? Perhaps Ninon had charmed Porthos enough that he didn't mind anymore.

“Oh, Aramis, it was just you and your mother for a while wasn't it?”

Aramis nodded. “Yes I think he died or at least that's what my Mum said.” Aramis then turned to face Porthos properly. “I didn't know you that you never had a dad.”

“No, mate. Never knew him. He wasn't interested in being a dad I guess. How old were you when your dad died?”

“Not sure. He was around for a bit then he left. He didn't leave because he died,” Aramis made a face. “I'm not even sure if he died.”

“Do you remember him, Aramis?” Ninon asked when they both stopped talking for a moment.

“A little,” Aramis admitted. “I remember him letting me sit on his lap to watch football.”

“Football?” Ninon smiled as she spoke. “Do you like football? You've not mentioned that before.”

Aramis shrugged and smiled back shyly. “I haven't had the chance to watch it for a long time.”

“You can watch football!” Porthos said enthusiastically. “Aramis, you can watch as much as you like. We could even go to a game, if you like? We talked about hobbies the other day, you never mentioned football.”

“I didn't think about it. Do you like football?”

“Not that bothered but I'd be happy to watch it with you. Athos watches the odd game. Or he used to.”

Aramis' head snapped around to look at Athos. “Do you like football?”

Athos had quite happily been kept out of the whole conversation up until that point but football, he had once liked it, mostly because Thomas was really into sports and Athos used to like spending time with his little brother. Now whenever he watched football it reminded him of Thomas but not in an unpleasant way, it often gave him a warm feeling of nostalgia.

“I don't mind it,” Athos said, his voice a little croaky.

“Do you support Paris Saint-Germain?” Aramis asked, sounding very excited to be talking about football.

“I mostly just watch football when it's the World Cup or the European championships,” Athos admitted. “So not so much club stuff. Is that who you support?”

“Yes,” Aramis began to smile. “But I used to like watching international games as well. I had a French football team t-shirt when I was little. I wore it all of the time, it was far too big for me at first but that was good because it meant I could wear it for a long time.”

Athos pictured a small, curly-haired Aramis proudly wearing an over-sized blue football t-shirt and it was a very adorable image, but it did make Athos wonder more about Aramis' father. It was strange that Aramis didn't seem to know if he had died or not.

“Did you father give you the T-shirt?” Athos attempted to probe.

“Yeah,” Aramis nodded his head. “That was before he left. Does your dad like football?”

Athos almost snorted. His dad absolutely detested all sport and thought that anyone that liked sport was just an uneducated hooligan...apart from Thomas, but then Thomas was the favourite child and could do no wrong. “No, no. He works a lot. He's very busy all of the time.”

Having affairs and things, Athos thought silently in his head. Aramis began to look sad and nodded some sort of understanding.

“He works hard?”

Athos thought about it and, in fairness to his father, the man had never just lived off his inheritance, he also ran a very successful business which he had built from scratch and was also a trustee of various charities. 

“Yes, he does work hard. He owns a private jet and helicopter charter company.”

“Wow!” Aramis looked extremely impressed. “Helicopters? Wow!”

“So, gentlemen,” Ninon interrupted calmly. “How did that feel?”

None of them said anything at first but Ninon waited patiently until Porthos eventually spoke.

“Feel? I dunno, it was good. I didn't know Aramis liked football so that was interesting.”

“And I didn't know that Porthos never had a dad,” Aramis pointed out. 

“So how did that make you feel, Aramis?” Ninon questioned, trying to encourage Aramis to talk about his emotions.

“Happy. But...I mean not that it's happy but...we have something in common. I already know I have something in common with Athos and now I have something in common with Porthos as well.”

Ninon smiled at him before turning to Athos. “And, Athos, how did that make you feel?”

Athos found it harder to know what to say. He had started out feeling ashamed and then they'd just...talked and Athos couldn't deny the fact that he had discovered more about Aramis in the last couple of minutes than he ever had and yet Aramis was happy. Why? Because he had discovered things about them as well.

“It was fine.” He cringed because he knew that Porthos hated that word so he quickly tried to correct himself. “I mean it was nice learning more about each other.”

“Exactly,” Ninon said with a heavy dose of encouragement. “Gentleman, when you're at work you interrogate people but when you're at home you need to have conversations. Conversations, on the whole when it comes to relationships, are better when they go both ways. I'm sure you do want to know more about Aramis but Aramis also wants to know more about you two. It makes things more equal and less threatening. Does that make sense?”

Athos nodded. He still felt like he was being told off but at least Ninon was being nice about it and she had a point, Aramis had just happily spoken about his past because he was also learning about theirs at the same time. It had worked and Aramis wasn't crying. Athos took note.

After the session with Ninon, Athos wanted to get more work done. Aramis was excited about reading his new book so headed straight off without the usual pouting which pleased Athos because it meant that they could just concentrate on getting back to the office. Athos and Porthos then spend the afternoon going through the church's financial records trying to find something unusual. They took note of a couple of large sums of money which suddenly appeared but they suspected the gifts had come from fundraising events, but it would be worth some further investigation. They agreed to visit the current Priest when they had the time which wasn't that day because it was getting pretty late by the time they looked at the clock.

When they got back they greeted Aramis outside as he was also just coming home after taking Frodo for another walk. They all went into the hallway where Frodo suddenly seemed very excited about having them all back and even tried to jump up at Athos which caused Athos to fall backwards over the shoes but Porthos, who was standing behind, caught Athos just in time.

“It's just a dog,” Porthos whispered calmly into Athos' ear. “You're okay.”

Athos knew that Porthos was right but still appreciated Aramis tugging Frodo out of the hallway and Porthos holding onto him until he the dog had gone. Then he needed to re-organise the shoes which he had just messed up and Porthos waited patiently to put his own shoes down once Athos had finished sorting out the rest.

“You good?” Porthos asked. Athos scanned all of the shoes just to make sure that they were all straight and in pairs before nodding. Everything was in order again, everything was fine.

When they walked into the living-room Aramis was kneeling down and talking to the dog who was sitting there obediently.

“You mustn't jump up at Athos like that,” Aramis was explaining. “He loves you very much but he doesn't like you jumping up at him.” Aramis then reached out to stroke Frodo's head and the dog wagged its tail frantically. Aramis' hands slipped over Frodo's rib cage as the dog stood up and came closer for a cuddle.

“I can't even feel his ribs anymore. You're eating well, Frodo! It's good you have a new home, isn't it?”

Athos watched as Aramis wrapped his arms around the dog and noted that it wasn't just the dog which was putting on weight; Porthos' food was working well on Aramis too. Speaking of which, Athos went into the kitchen to look at the colourful weekly slotted pill box he had brought for Aramis and Aramis had indeed taken his pills for the day. It was a good way to help Aramis remember and for Athos to double-check that he had.

Athos' phone began to vibrate in his pocket so he pulled it out. Half expecting it to be Constance or something work-related, he was a little surprised to see his mother's name on the small screen. He did debate ignoring it but curiosity got the better of him and he pressed accept button before pulling the phone to his ear.

“Darling, your father is coming home on Sunday.”

There wasn't even a greeting, or a 'how are you?' She just got straight to the point. Athos wasn't entirely sure why she was even telling him.

“Okay,” he said in response, not knowing how else to react.

“You will come home and be here, won't you?”

Come home? Why did she want him there? Athos didn't want to have anything to do with the mess that was their marriage. 

“Why would I come home?” he asked bluntly, walking across the kitchen to get away from the living-room so that he wasn't disturbing Porthos and Aramis.

“Because you must. What if he brings that woman with him? No, darling, you must come. Come home for your mother.”

Athos rolled his eyes in exasperation. They had barely spoken over the past few years and yet she was suddenly expecting him to support her.

“You're old enough to deal with it yourself.”

He could hear her gasp down the phone. “I'm your mother. We're your parents. Don't you care at all?”

He could feel his blood beginning to boil. These were the very two people who were meant to protect him and care for him as a child, yet they barely even acknowledged his existence. They were the very people who should never have had a favourite, yet it had always been clear who the special child was. They were the two adults in his life who should have loved him despite his odd obsessive tendencies, yet they made him believe that there was something wrong with him. They only seemed to tolerate him whilst Thomas was around because Thomas adored Athos but, after Thomas died, suddenly they became even less interest in being parents and just shoved money in Athos' direction as their only expression of love. And yet now, now she wanted him to come running at her beck and call? Not bloody likely.

“I'm busy with work. People are being murdered and things.”

“Well let me call your manager and I'll explain. I'm sure he would understand. This is a family emergency.”

Manager? Athos wasn't sure that Treville would appreciate being called that and it wasn't an emergency, his mother was just pissed off with his father and she wanted back-up.

“Fine I'll come,” he said suddenly, mostly to stop her from ringing the police-station and annoying everyone. Also, partly, he was angry with his father and did want to confront him.

“Wonderful!” His mother was obviously pleased that she had managed to get her way. “Come Saturday night because I don't know what time he'll be here on Sunday. Bring Porthos if you like, he can enjoy the house whilst we have it out with your father.”

And that was that, the line went dead. The invitation to Porthos had been quite a surprise, in fact the whole thing was bizarre. 

“Everything alright?” A voice asked behind him which made Athos, who was still staring at his phone, turn around to discover Porthos standing in the kitchen looking concern.

“My mother,” Athos explained, waving the phone in his hand. “My father is coming home on Sunday and she wants me there to help her...deal with him.”

Porthos looked sad. “Wow that's...I'm sorry, Athos.”

Porthos came over and opened up his arms to engulf Athos in a hug and Athos stepped into him, feeling comforted by Porthos' warmth.

“Are you going to go?” Porthos asked after a moment of silence. Athos still didn't want to but now he felt obligated.

“I think I have to,” Athos admitted. “Would you come as well?”

Porthos pulled away a little then to cup Athos' face and look straight at him. “Yeah, you know I will. Whatever you need me to do. What about Aramis?”

Athos tried to peer over Porthos' shoulder wondering where Aramis was, no doubt he could hear what they were saying. 

“He'll be fine here.”

Porthos tilted the corner of his mouth and appeared to look unsure. “We'll be seeing the lawyer tomorrow,” Porthos explained. “Not sure how that's gonna go and remember what happened the last time we left him?”

Athos did remember that very well, Aramis invited a heroin addict into their house but that hadn't turned out so badly in the long-term. Still, Athos would also feel better if Aramis came with them but, at the same time, he didn't want to involve Aramis in the mess which was his family.

“Come on, love,” Porthos encouraged. “The house is huge. Aramis and Frodo could hide in a...wing or whatever. They'll not get in the way but I'd feel better if he was with us.”

Athos suspected that it wasn't an argument he was going to win and, if it was either Porthos, Aramis and the dog or none of them at all, he would rather have them there.

“Alright then.”


	46. The day Aramis met Anne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [WARNING - Description of past physical assault and sexual assault - no flashbacks]

That night Athos barely slept, he felt anxious about the meeting with the lawyer so he spent most of the night tossing and turning and trying to make himself believe that nothing terrible would actually happen if he didn't wash his hands or check the clothes in his wardrobe. By the time the alarm went off Athos wasn't entirely certain he had slept at all but he crawled out of bed to make sure that he made it into the shower in plenty of time.

Washing, as it turned out, did nothing to qualm his anxiety. Aramis had bravely agreed to testify but, when faced with the reality of it, Athos did wonder if he would back-out. Today would be the start of that reality sinking in and Athos worried about the meeting with Anne, especially what she would ask Aramis and how Aramis would cope with it. After all, despite Athos' tendency to make Aramis cry, they were generally very patient with Aramis but Anne probably woudn't be because Anne had a job to do, she needed Aramis to talk to her.

Athos tried to keep things positive during breakfast but found himself endlessly rearranging everything on the table from the fruit bowel to the salt and pepper shakers until Porthos drew his attention to it by reaching out and gently grabbing onto his wrist to stop his fiddling. Porthos smiled encouragingly at him without needing to say a word but didn't let go of his wrist, forcing Athos to finish his breakfast with one hand which he didn't complain about because feeling Porthos' warm fingers against his skin was oddly soothing.

By they time they had arrived at the dreary office bloke of the public prosecution service, Athos suspected that Aramis' levels of anxiety were even outdoing his own. The man was even beyond his nervous chattering stage, he actually hadn't spoken a word the entire car journey.

“Are you alright?” Athos asked as they all got out of the car. Aramis nodded but his facial expression told another story. He appeared to be unable to look Athos in the eye and he was chewing on his bottom lip.

"You'll be fine, we'll be right there with you."

Athos hoped that it was a promise he'd be-able to keep but he had no plans to leave Aramis in a room alone with Anne, not yet, not until he knew Aramis was comfortable with her. Anne wasn't Ninon after all, Ninon was safe, Athos liked Anne but she had an agenda and Athos wasn't sure how she would approach getting what she needed from Aramis. Until he knew he wanted to be there and he assumed Porthos felt the same.

Being scrutinized by a very gruff security team once they entered the building didn't help Aramis settle either and, by the time they were sitting in the waiting-area, Aramis' right leg was bouncing up and down furiously with nerves. Porthos tried to settled him by discreetly holding onto Aramis' hand but Athos wasn't even sure they were going to make it into the office with Aramis radiating such nervousness which was, in turn, making Athos feel even more anxious. It was Athos himself who was just about to suggest they abandon the whole idea when Anne appeared walking down the hallway with a big smile on her face.

"Hello,” she said warmly, coming over wearing a smart skirt and blouse which made the rest of them look scruffy in their casual clothes. Aramis' head immediately shot up. “I'm Anne. You must be Aramis?”

She extended her arm and Aramis, now looking somewhat stunned, did reach out to shake it.

“Come into my office everyone, I'll make us all drinks. What would you like, do you drink coffee?”

Anne beckoned them to follow as she began to walk back down the hallway. Much to Athos' surprise it was Aramis who was the first to stand up and follow her.

“Yes please,” Aramis said which confused Athos because Aramis rarely seemed to drink coffee at home.

Athos turned to Porthos who, like Athos, appeared to be somewhat stunned at how easily Aramis had just walked off with her so they both quickly stood up to follow. It was like Ninon all over again. Aramis did appear to like women, Athos realised, from Constance to Ninon to the ladies in the library and the old lady down at the day care centre. Perhaps it was somewhat helpful that the prosecution lawyer was also female.

Before Athos knew it they were all sitting in Anne's smart office which was full of mahogany furniture and Aramis really did seem quite taken with her.

“What were you expecting?” Anne asked with a chuckle after Aramis pointed out that she didn't look like a lawyer.

“Someone...older I guess,” Aramis explained. “And scary.”

Anne laughed kindly again as she poured four cups of coffee from the freshly brewed coffee pot. “Scary? Well, I can be scary when I need to be.”

She winked at him and then turned back to add milk to the drinks.

“I hope I'm a pleasant surprise, Aramis. Anyone need sugar?"

"Yes please, just one please," Aramis said which really baffled Athos because yes, Aramis really never did drink coffee at home, let alone coffee with sugar. Anne made their drinks then handed them out before sitting behind her desk with her own.

“I'm very pleased that you changed your mind, I know it can't be easy for you.”

Aramis held his hot cup between his fingers.

“No but...but I want to do it.”

“And what is it you want to do?” Anne asked but not in a way which was challenging, she just sounded interested.

“Tell people what happened.”

“Well that's good,” Anne said cheerfully before pausing briefly to blow at her coffee. “I mean that's important and helpful to me. Have these two detectives explained what I'm hoping to get Marsac charged with?”

Aramis opened his mouth as if he was going to say something but then he shut it again and shook his head after obviously realising that he hadn't been privy to that information. For good reason, Athos thought silently.

“Well I was hoping to get him on supplying drugs but that's looking unlikely so I'm going to concentrate on the charges of controlling prostitution for gain and attempted murder.”

“Who did he try to murder?” Aramis asked, somewhat innocently. It caused Anne to squint in confusion.

“Well...you.”

Athos watched as Aramis' eyes went wide open in shock. Porthos leaned forward to try and get Aramis' attention.

“That night he hurt you, remember? When he hit you and then put his hands around your throat.”

“He wasn't trying to murder me!” Aramis protested to Porthos as if the very thought of it was insane.

It had been so long since the subject had come up that Athos had almost forgotten about Aramis being in denial regarding Marsac's actions. They should have spoken to Aramis about it again before bringing him to Anne. Too late now.

“Why do you say that, Aramis?” Anne asked calmly.

“Because he loves me,” Aramis explained as he turned back to look at her. “He wouldn't ever try to kill me. No, you've got it wrong.”

“Okay,” Anne nodded and actually smiled at him before sitting back in her chair. “Then what happened? You were there, Aramis, but I wasn't so I don't know what happened. Why don't you tell me?”

Aramis wiggled in his chair, put his coffee down onto the table and then appeared to think for a moment. Athos was relieved that Anne was being patient with Aramis so far, although goodness knows what she thought about the victim of such a vicious attack denying there was anything vicious about it at all.

“Well I made him angry," Aramis told her as he started to explain. "Someone told Nashiko that they had heard me on the phone right before the police came to arrest Gilles. So Nasiko...she's the lady who looked after the brothel where I worked...she called Marsac. Then Marsac turned up and snatched my phone off me and called the last number I had dialed. Athos knows...” Aramis briefly looked across at Athos. “...because he called Athos and Athos said that he was a detective so Marsac grabbed me by the arm and dragged me outside. He told me to get into his car so I did.”

Athos had never heard Athos speak about something in such a way before. It was like he had managed to switch his emotions off and was just telling them the facts. “...he took me back to his house and he was angry at me. Really angry. He told me that I had betrayed him and you don't do that when you love someone. He said that he had looked after me and I had repaid him by betraying him and he was was right, because I had. I felt really bad about it.”

Athos really had to stop himself from saying something at that point. He wanted to tell Aramis that he didn't deserve it, he didn't deserve any of it. He might have betrayed Marsac but he had done the right thing and Marsac never should have touched him.

“So what happened?” Anne asked, sounding far more calm than Athos felt.

“Well...I don't really remember,” Aramis said but his gaze began to lower towards the table and his voice was going quiet. “He...I don't remember.”

“So you're in his house? Which room?”

“The bedroom,” Aramis responded in a low voice.

“Okay, so you're in the bedroom and he's yelling at you. And you're feeling bad because you know he's right. What happened then?”

“He...” Aramis paused and he began to scrunch up his nose. “...he...”

“It's okay, Aramis,” Anne reassured. “Take your time.”

They all waited patiently. Athos could tell that Aramis was now struggling to hold back his emotions because his bottom lip was quivering.

“...he hit me,” Aramis eventually blurted out. “He hit me and I stumbled back because I was shocked. Then he hit me again.”

Aramis blinked rapidly and his eyes began to get wet. Athos desperately wanted to reach out and hug him. He knew that Porthos must have felt the same; it was torture having to sit there but not be-able to touch him.

“Yes I bet that was a shock,” Anne said with sympathy and moved to push a box of tissues she had on her desk closer towards Aramis. Aramis stared at the box at first but then reached out and took a tissue, he used it to wipe away the tears from his eyes.

“It was and I felt really confused. He'd never hit me before. I was scared....scared that he didn't love me anymore.”

“Did you fight back?” Anne asked which caused Aramis to immediately shake his head and look up at her in shock.

“No, no, I wouldn't....no, I don't hurt people,” he informed her defiantly.

“So he hit you, twice? Where did he hit you?”

“In the face. I remember because it hurt. My eye and my face...it hurt.”

“Then what happened?”

“I...” Aramis appeared to be lost in thought about until he slowly lifted his arm and brought his fingers to his throat. He remembered, Athos realised, he remembered being strangled. “I'm not sure.”

Athos knew that Aramis was thinking about it and watched as Aramis' fingers gently stroked the skin on his neck which had once displayed dark bruises where Marsac's fingers had squeezed.

“You can't remember?” Anne asked and Aramis shook his head and began to lower his hand.

You do, Athos thought silently, you do, just tell her.

“No, not really. I'm sorry. I can't say for sure. I woke up in hospital, I remember that.”

“That's okay, Aramis,” Anne smiled warmly at him and Athos let out a breath he had been holding. He felt disappointed that Aramis hadn't admitted to the strangling but perhaps it didn't matter. Did they need Aramis to talk about it? Surely the evidence from the finger-marks on his neck would be enough. “You've done so well telling me all of that already. I know it can't be easy to think about it. Do you remember the detectives coming into the house?”

Aramis shook his head from side to side. “No.”

“He was unconscious by the time we found him,” Porthos pointed out which caused Anne to nod and she scribbled something down on a notepad which was in front of her.

“And there was no-one else in the house as far as you know?” She was looking at the pad so Athos wasn't entirely sure who she was speaking to but Porthos answered again.

“No-one when we arrived. Just Marsac and Aramis.”

Anne continued to write something and Athos tried to read it but her writing was hard to understand from his upside down viewpoint. When she put the pen down he immediately tried to pretend that he hadn't been staring at all.

“Marsac's lawyer will try to argue that you provoked him in some way, Aramis,” she explained, being honest. “They'll probably try to claim that Marsac was out of his mind and acting out of character. So we may need to talk a little more about the times when he was violent towards other people.”

Aramis nodded and Anne finally looked up to question Athos.

“This other man who is testifying now, would he have witnessed Marsac being aggressive?”

Athos shrugged, he wasn't sure what Alexei had seen and hadn't seen as they hadn't really gone into that level of detail with the Russian.

“I don't know,” Athos admitted. “He was going into heroin withdrawal when we interviewed him. It would be better if we wait before talking to him more thoroughly.”

Anne nodded her agreement. “Although we are running out of time,” she also pointed out before taking a sip of her drink.

“So, Aramis, can you tell me a little bit about how you met Marsac and started working for him?”

Aramis moved in his chair and sat himself up straighter. Athos desperately wanted to reach out to hold onto his hand or offer him some sort of reassurance but he knew that they couldn't with Anne in the room. Athos was actually amazed at how well Aramis was doing, it was beyond anything Athos had been expecting.

“I umm...well I discovered that I could make some money...” Aramis hesitated and glanced across at Porthos. “...can I say rude things?” he whispered. Porthos nodded encouragingly.

“Yeah, mate, I'm sure Anne has heard it all before.”

Aramis turned back again, clearing his throat and gripping onto the tissue he was still holding.

“...back when I was living on the streets because I ran away, someone told me that I could make money by giving men blow-jobs and letting them do that to me and I needed money because I didn't like to steal food. So I just hung out where the others waited and men would approach us either by just walking up to us or sometimes in cars and if you were picked then you went off with them.

“That's when I saw Marsac, he used to watch us sometimes, from a distance. I asked someone if they knew who he was but they didn't know. I thought maybe he was just shy, that he wanted a blow-job but was too shy to ask. One day he finally came over and asked if he could buy me dinner so I said yes because I thought maybe that was code for sex, but it wasn't, he just brought me dinner. He said he had been watching me and he wanted to help. He said that he could look after me. I didn't really understand what he meant. He seemed nice but I didn't know him so I said thank you but I was okay.

“But then, one night, this man picked me and took me off in his car. He wasn't nice. He pinned me down in the back of the car face first and pulled my jeans down and...well I tried to say that I didn't want to do that but he just...well he just did it anyway. I screamed because it hurt but he hit me and told me to be quiet. When he was done he threw me out of the car I couldn't stop shaking. I didn't know where I was at first but I eventually managed to find my way back to the street where everyone else was. I collapsed I think and the others were there trying to help me and Marsac was there as well. He took me somewhere...to his apartment. He didn't have a nice house back then but he had an apartment and it was warm and there was a comfortable bed. I just slept I think, for hours and hours. When I woke up he made me food. He was really nice to me, really nice. Am I telling you the right things?”

Athos had been so caught up in the story and listening to the awful stuff Aramis had gone through that it barely registered that Aramis had stopped talking.

“Yes, Aramis, this is exactly what I want to know about,” Anne responded. “Can you carry on?”

Aramis nodded and seemed to take a deep breath of courage. Whilst Aramis wasn't crying Athos was close to it. The thought of Aramis on that street, in the back of that car...how could anyone do that to him?

“Umm...well I think I stayed in the apartment for a couple of days, until I was better. Then Marsac said that he could show me how it was meant to be done if I liked. He said he could show me how to have anal sex like that in a way that wouldn't hurt. So we had sex and I enjoyed it with Marsac. And then Marsac said he could teach me lots of things and he did. I think I stayed in his apartment for a few days whilst he taught me things.

“Then he said that he knew somewhere else I could work and he would make sure that I wouldn't get hurt like that again. Marsac was so nice that I thought it was a good idea. He said I could help him as well, help him find other boys that he could look after. So I did and he did look after us, he checked that we were eating and washing and sleeping and, if we weren't, then he'd take us away to feed us or wash us. If we got sick he'd make sure we saw a doctor. Yes, he was nice.”

He was looking after his goods, Athos thought silently but didn't want to break Aramis' illusion by suggesting that. Although something Aramis just said had Athos worried...

“So when did you move from working on the street to working in a brothel?” Anne asked.

“Umm, I don't know,” Aramis admitted. “I can't remember when it was. But Marsac got some money and he started renting this big building. He told me it would be safer for us there, he could control it better. I was happy because I liked it there and Marsac had...umm well it was mostly men working there until he found a couple of ladies as well. I liked it when they came, the ladies were really funny.” Aramis started smiling. “And, because it was going well, Marsac opened a couple of other buildings as well and started finding more people to work for him. He moved me to one of the other places because he said it was a better area so nicer people would go there. It did well, we were always busy. But I think that's because there were men as well as woman working there, Marsac said that was unusual.

“Oh and Marsac found me an apartment, a place of my own and he paid my rent and bills and everything. So I worked in the brothel for a few hours every day and then I spent the rest of my time doing what I liked. Unless Marsac wanted me, I went to his house a lot as well. And that's...that's...do you need to know anything else?”

Athos was still thinking about what Aramis had said and wondered if Porthos and Anne had picked up on it as well. It could be a problem, but perhaps not. He wasn't going to mention it with Aramis in the room.

“Aramis, you've been amazing. Thank you for being so honest. I think we'll leave it there for now but I would like to see you again, if that's okay? So we can talk a little more and I can get some details off you. And perhaps we can practice some questions which I'll ask you in court?”

Aramis nodded and they left it at that. Athos shook Anne's hand because it felt like the formal thing to do and the way she squeezed his caused Athos to hope that she was feeling more positive about the court case.

“There's a couple of things it would be good to chat about,” Anne said once their hands parted. Athos agreed, they did need to talk and he also still wanted to ask Anne about getting into Marsac's bank accounts.

“I'll call you on Monday,” he suggested. He didn't want to talk to Anne whilst he was at his parents house, it could wait until Monday.

Aramis was silent all of the way home and Athos gave him the space to be. Not even Porthos tried to make conversation although Athos could tell that Porthos was driving a little faster than he normally would. Athos couldn't help but think about everything Aramis had said all of the way home but there was one thing in particular which still made Athos feel concerned...Aramis had helped Marsac recruit other rent-boys. If Aramis was legally an adult during that time, that would make him an accessory and Marsac's lawyer would jump on that fact if Aramis admitted to it in court. Still Aramis was also the victim in the situation and, surely as he helped the police, they could protect him from being prosecuted? Athos knew that he'd have to put it all to one side and talk to Anne about it on Monday. Monday was beginning to feel like a long way away.

When they got back to the house Aramis immediately disappeared off into the living-room but Athos had to take off his shoes and put them into their correct position and then place his jacket onto the correct peg .Porthos threw off his own shoes and also headed into the living-room, forcing Athos to have to sort of Porthos' shoes as well. He didn't have a choice, if things weren't in the right place then all sorts of bad things could happen.

By the time he was satisfied that everything was correct, he could hear Porthos talking gently so went to join them. Porthos was kneeling down on the carpet in front of Aramis who appeared to be sitting on the floor leaning up against the wall. As Athos got closer he noticed that Frodo was standing across Aramis' lap and Aramis had the dog pulled up against his chest.

“...we really are, so incredibly proud of you. I know that couldn't have been easy. You did so well.”

Aramis nodded and then glanced up when Athos came over.

“I did okay?” he asked Athos, seeking out approval and, despite the dog being there, Athos felt like he had no choice but to get down onto the carpet as well so that he wasn't towering over the pair of them. Athos lowered himself down and sat up against the wall close to Aramis.

“Aramis, I'm in awe of how brave you just were.”

Aramis' eyes went wide at the compliment but then he scrunched his face up and looked like he was about to burst into tears. He gripped onto the dog tighter, fingers digging into the fur.

“Hey...” Athos reached out and stroked Aramis' arm, it felt incredibly to be-able to touch Aramis again.

“I'm okay,” came the voice which sounded anything but okay. “So you still want me to live with you?”

“What?!” Porthos sounded shocked. “Why wouldn't we want that?”

“Because of everything I said,” Aramis explained.

Now Porthos looked like he was the one who was about to cry. Porthos reached out and squeezed Aramis' shoulder before stroking his hair, seemingly not knowing which part he wanted to touch and stroke the most.

“Aramis, we love you,” Porthos said very clearly. “Nothing you say about your past will ever change that. I wish you hadn't gone through it all and it upsets me to hear about it all but it doesn't change the way I feel about you, not in the slightest. I wish you'd stop worrying about us not wanting you anymore as nothing could be further from the truth.”

Aramis loosened his hold on the dog and Frodo stepped forward and almost stood on Athos' lap. Athos immediately wanted to move out of the way but then the dog stopped and just looked up at Athos with its tail wagging. The dog had obviously finally figured out that he shouldn't touch Athos without permission.

Then Athos did something he thought he'd never do, he reached out slowly and, before he really put much thought into it, he stroked Frodo between the ears. Frodo seemed to like it and pushed his head gently upwards towards Athos' hand so Athos scratched a little harder. He didn't notice that the other two had gone silent until he pulled his hand away, now wanting to wash it, and turned to look at Porthos and Aramis only to discover that they were both gawping at him.

“What?” Athos asked.

“Thank you,” Aramis whispered and then twisted around to wrap his arms around Athos and give him a squeeze. Athos was hesitant to hug Aramis back because he wanted to do nothing more than go and wash his hands, worried about all of the dirt and germs which were surely now lingering beneath his finger-nails that would no doubt cause illness and death to everyone he cared about unless he washed them off, however Aramis felt so delightfully warm that Athos allowed himself a moment to enjoy the embrace.

Later on that evening Porthos and Athos were alone together getting ready for bed upstairs whilst Aramis settled downstairs. The whole sleeping situation was still somewhat confusing but Athos had decided that letting Aramis sleep where-ever he liked seemed like the most sensible option for the time-being.

“I wish he'd stop worrying about us getting rid of him,” Porthos mumbled as he pulled off his socks. “Just when I think he's settled...I discover he's not.”

“It's just going to take time I guess,” Athos pointed out as he ironed his shirts in what little space there was in the bedroom to do so, but he didn't want to disturb Aramis downstairs.

“I almost broke down when he was telling the lawyer about that bloke in the car...how could anyone do that to him?”

Athos did wonder how Porthos had coped hearing it all. “I don't know and, the more I learn about his past, the more I wonder how he managed to get through it all without crumbling to pieces,” Athos pointed out, the iron moving smoothly over his shirt, hissing once in a while.

“Yeah,” Porthos sighed before standing up and pushing down his trousers. “From his father leaving for god knows what reason to his mother seemingly doing bugger all to protect Aramis from any abuse which caused Aramis to run away. It's a bit weird about his father though, isn't it? Wonder if his mum just told Aramis that his dad was dead to stop him from asking about him or something.”

Athos knew exactly what he had to do before Porthos went any further. He looked at Porthos sternly in the eye and said, “...Don't start getting any ideas about searching for his father,” he warned quickly. “Aramis has enough to deal with right now.”

“Oh I wasn't going to,” Porthos pointed out. “Although we should get a copy of his birth certificate soon so that might provide some answers.”

“Forgot all about it,” Athos warned. “Let's just concentrate on the move and the trial. Then we'll have to decide if we're going to involve Aramis in the Father Vincent investigation and the poor man is also going to meet my parents tomorrow, he has plenty to cope with already, the last one being the absolute worst.”

The comment got a small sympathetic smile from Porthos at least.

The following morning Aramis and Frodo were sitting in the back of the car and, whilst the dog had calmed down during the early stages of the journey, Aramis' delight at being invited along was at least making him talkative once again.

“Oh, we're staying in a hotel?” Aramis asked as they approached the house. “I thought we were going to your parents house? But that's okay....wow, I don't think I've ever seen such a nice looking hotel before.”

Porthos was laughing. “Are you gonna tell him or shall I?”

Athos, feeling somewhat embarrassed, kept quiet which forced Porthos to do the explaining.

“Aramis, mate, this is his parents' house. This is where Athos grew up.”

“You grew up in a hotel?!”

TBC...


	47. The Threesome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [I think the title of this chapter says it all! Here's an extra long chapter with some sexy-time.]

Porthos explained the situation regarding the house to Aramis as they pulled up outside the imposing white brick building and all got out of the car. Aramis almost stumbled over his own feet as he stared. Frodo just ran off to explore the gardens and then peed on the immaculate lawn which secretly amused Athos. But then Athos once again began to silently question what the hell he was doing; it was one thing bringing Porthos here, Porthos could handle the madness of his family, but Aramis...what was Aramis going to think of it all?

Before there was the chance for Athos' worries to escalate into anxiety, old M. Hubert came hurrying out with a big smile on his wrinkled face.

“Maître Athos! It feels like Christmas, two visits in such a short space of time.”

From anyone else Athos would have assumed they were being sarcastic but he had a feeling that M. Hubert was being completely truthful with his statement, it probably was quite terribly being stuck alone in the house with Athos' mother after all.

“It's good to see you as well,” Athos responded in kind as he watched M. Hubert head for the boot of the car. “Where is she?”

“Lying down. She was suffering from another of her headaches. She told me to get you settled when you...”

Hubert paused for a moment when he noticed that there was an extra man in their company standing close to the car but feasting his eyes on the house with fascination. Hubert soon gathered himself and walked around the oblivious Aramis.

“...arrived.”

“Let me help,” Aramis immediately said when the noise of the back of the car being opened seemed to bring him back down to earth but the older man was already pulling their minimal luggage out.

“No, no, it's fine,” Hubert insisted but Aramis seemed to also insist and tugged at one of the bags only to have it snatched out of his hand by Hubert. Aramis opened his mouth in shock and perhaps to protest so Athos quickly hurried over in order to stop him.

“Aramis, just...just let him,” he suggested. He knew from experience that M. Hubert would feel insulted if he thought that someone believed he couldn't do his job. Aramis ended up not saying anything but continued to stare at M. Hubert looking baffled so Athos reached out and gently took his arm to stop him from attempting to help any further.

“M. Hubert works here and has done so since before I was born.”

“Like a servant?” Aramis whispered, although it was ridiculous to whisper as they were close enough for Hubert to hear. “I didn't think people had servants anymore apart from the Queen of England.”

“Yes,” Athos nodded. “The Queen of England and my mother.”

Athos eventually had to gently drag Aramis into the house because the man kept on stumbling around, staring up at the house and across the garden in wonder. Once they were inside the house though it was no better, Aramis still wanted to examine everything; from the pottery to the furniture to the carpet on the staircase.

“This is the most amazing house I've ever been to,” Aramis commented which caused Porthos to chuckle but Athos failed to find amusement in the situation. He had been brought up around such wealth and yet couldn't appreciate any of it and often wished that he hadn't even had such a life. That, in turn, made him feel ashamed of himself because he knew that he should really feel grateful.

“Let's go upstairs and I'll show you the bedrooms,” Athos suggested because he already wanted to run off and hide somewhere.

Aramis didn't appear to have heard Athos though so Athos instead asked Hubert to take all of the bags up to his bedroom and gave the old man a pat on the arm in a grateful gesture.

“Aramis?” Athos called, trying to get the man's attention as Aramis stared up at one of the paintings on the wall. “I should show you which room you'll be staying in.”

“Who are those people?” Aramis asked so Athos followed his gaze to discover which painting Aramis was looking at. It was the largest portrait in the room and had been given pride of place on the stairway before the stairs split off into two different directions. The painting in question was of a proud man wearing a military uniform with two serious looking children standing in front of him all dressed up in their best clothes.

“That's my great-grandfather Albert and his two children Christophe and Addie. We believe that the painting was commissioned just months before Albert was killed in the Second World War. So the boy in the painting, Christophe de la Fere, that's my grandfather.”

“That's amazing!” Aramis exclaimed. “You have a painting of them all, although it's sad he died in the war.”

“Yes, it is,” Athos noted. He had never met his great-grandfather so had no real opinion of the man either way although Athos had always disliked all of the paintings which hung around the house; he felt like they they were staring at him and judging him in a very unforgiving manner.

“You up there somewhere?” Porthos then asked, now also glancing around at them all.

“My portrait is in another room,” Athos explained although it came out as a bit of a mumble. He really hoped that they wouldn't insisted that he show them. “Come on, let's get to the bedrooms.”

He still wanted to be out of the hallway and away from the disapproving glares of his ancestors as fast as possible. Thankfully the other two agreed and Frodo appeared from no-where so they all headed up the stairs towards the east wing which was on the opposite side of the house to where his parents had their bedroom, something which had been a blessing in the past.

“You can stay in the green room,” Athos told Aramis as they walked down the hallway. “It's next to mine and, because it's a corner room, it has lovely views of the gardens.”

“Because I can't stay in your room?”

They had already had the conversation in the car but Athos tried to remain patient as he explained it once more.

“That's right,” Athos told him. “Remember we have to pretend you're our friend, it'll be too confusing for my parents...well I've only just introduced my mother to Porthos and...” Athos sighed, he did feel very bad about the fact they were constantly asking Aramis to lie about their relationship so he stopped in the middle of the hallway and turned to Aramis, Porthos just behind them. “I love you and I'm incredibly proud to be your boyfriend, you know that right? But we have to wait until after the trial before we can start being open about our relationship.”

Aramis nodded. “I understand.”

Athos wasn't entirely sure if Aramis did understand or not but Aramis at least appeared to be good at keeping secrets. Athos smiled at him and placed his fingers on the back of Aramis' neck. Leaning forward he placed a tender kiss onto Aramis' forehead.

“Thank you.”

They headed into Athos' bedroom first, because that was where Hubert had left their bags. There Aramis continued spending his time exploring his surroundings although, in Athos' room, Athos found it more irritating. Each time Aramis touched something it made Athos flinch. This was Athos' bedroom after all and everything had a place to be, a position to occupy and a direction to face in. It was very important that everything stayed where it was.

Not only was Aramis exploring but the dog was doing the same. Frodo sniffed the unfamiliar rug and whizzed around the room in excitement. This doubled Athos' anxiety and he paused for a moment to close his eyes, wanting to block out everything which was happening.

“Athos, you alright?” Came the concerned voice of Porthos which caused Athos to open his eyes to search for the man who always made him feel better but, upon opening his eyes, he noticed that Aramis had a picture-frame in his hand and he was looking at it curiously. The fact that Aramis was looking didn't bother Athos so much but, when Aramis put it back, it was crooked. Athos was about to yell but somehow managed to stop himself. He tensed his muscles instead and squeezed his hands into fists. Suddenly he noticed how dirty his skin felt, it was covered in grime.

“I'm going to go and wash my hands,” he announced and headed into the en-suite bathroom, fumbling with the taps until he eventually managed to get the hot water running.

Porthos soon came in and stood behind Athos as Athos began to wash his hands in the basin. He poured soap onto his skin and rubbed it in frantically. Then he washed it off with water, patted his hands dry with the towel before reaching for the soap and doing it all again. Once...twice...Porthos stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Athos' waist, giving him a gentle squeeze but not speaking. Athos found Porthos' presence calming and the strong arms on his stomach soothing. In fact it slowed down his frantic washing but he couldn't stop.

“Are you alright?” Porthos whispered and his warm breath tickled Athos' ear.

“Yes, sorry. I just...just need to get to five,” Athos told him and patted his hands dry with the towel before going to wash them for a third time.

“Okay, I'll just wait then,” Porthos said and didn't move. He continued to hold Athos around the waist until Athos had washed his hands five times but he still couldn't shake the anxiety; his heart was pounding and he was beginning to feel dizzy. He reached for the soap again, he'd have to wash ten times instead. But then Porthos' hand reached out and fingers gripped firmly onto his arm.

“You're good now, stop.”

“No, just five more times,” Athos requested. He needed to do another five...he had to stop his heart from racing, his legs from wobbling and his rib-cage from constricting his lungs. It he didn't wash his hands five more times then soon he wouldn't be-able to breathe.

“No you don't, you're good,” Porthos said.

“Porthos, I need to...”

Suddenly Athos was being pulled away from the sink by the arm still around his waist and he stumbled backwards against Porthos, too weak to stop it from happening.

“You're fine now, calm down.”

Athos tried to protest and fight his way back to the sink but he didn't have the strength to push against Porthos so his attempt to do so ended up being quite feeble. Arms tightened around him, making it even harder to get air into his lungs as he was pulled against Porthos' chest.

“Shh, you're fine, I'm here and Aramis is here and everything is okay,” Porthos was saying gently into his ear but Athos was beginning to hyperventilate. He was fine, he was fine. Everything was fine. He was dizzy and he could feel his heart pounding up against his ribs so hard that it would soon burst out of his chest and he couldn't breathe anymore but Porthos was there and everything was fine. Everything was....

He heard the disconcerting noise of voices in the distance but the world was in darkness. He was lying on his back and, as he came around, the voices grew louder until he realised they weren't in the distance at all, people were talking above his head.

“What if he doesn't wake up?” Aramis' panicked voice asked.

Athos forced his eyes to open and the first thing which came into focus was a light blue ceiling. Their ceiling was blue? Since when had...wait, he wasn't at home, that's right, they were at his parents house and his old bedroom ceiling was indeed light blue. The memory of where he was caused his stomach to immediately churn but then the blue was replaced by two very concerned looking faces.

“What happened?” Athos croaked up at them.

“You passed out,” Porthos explained. “So I carried you to the bed. We were about to yell for help.”

Help from who? Hubert, the cook, a maid, the gardener...his mother...

“Please god tell me that you didn't...” Athos tried to sit up but his arms felt sluggish and he couldn't quite manage it.

“No, don't worry, we didn't,” Porthos assured him and then, realising what Athos was trying to do, gently helped Athos sit up and lean back against the pillows. “You came round pretty quickly. You okay? I've seen your OCD trigger anxiety attacks before but never like that."

“I'm fine,” Athos assured him although he didn't feel fine at all, he had pins and needles in his fingers but he was fine enough. His heart appeared to have calmed down at least and his breathing was almost back to normal. Athos decided to concentrate on the latter for a moment and sucked in lung-fulls of air before letting them out slowly.

“Do you feel anxious about being here?” Aramis asked. He was sitting on the bed to Athos' left whilst Porthos was kneeling to his right. They both looked rather unsettled which Athos felt guilty for.

Athos paused for a moment and briefly debated lying. He really didn't want Aramis to know that he had caused the anxiety as it wasn't Aramis' fault that he had been curious. Aramis was just acting normally, Athos knew that he was the abnormal one.

“Yes, I do,” Athos admitted. “It's never easy to come back here.”

“I know,” Aramis said and then reached out to take Athos' hand, lift it up and give it a kiss. “You said that your parents used to get angry at you a lot.”

“Yes they did but I'd rather not talk about it,” Athos pointed out. He had just fainted in the bathroom, now didn't feel like the time to go into an in-depth conversation about his childhood.

“Oh,” Aramis sounded disappointed. “Okay.”

Now Athos felt bad. It wasn't that he didn't want to share, he just didn't want to think about it. Aramis moved to settled next to Athos, body pushed up against his side and Porthos, who was still on his knees, reached out to squeeze Athos' leg.

“We're here for you though, alright?” Porthos said. “If you do ever want to talk, we'll listen.”

Athos nodded because he knew that they would. He regretted coming back to the house but at least he wasn't alone, he had them both there and just knowing that did make him feel better.

They stayed in the bedroom for the next hour just talking with Athos, staying on the bed as they spoke about all sorts of things from finding a football match to attend to the house-move which was coming up the following week. It felt quite blissful until the sound of the gong interrupted their discussions.

“What was that?!” Aramis exclaimed. Clearly being summoned to meals by way of a gong had unsurprisingly not been a part of his upbringing.

“It means lunch is ready,” Porthos explained as he climbed off the bed. “You ready to meet Athos' mother?”

“I don't know,” Aramis admitted. “I don't think I want to. I want to tell her off for how she treated Athos. His brain just works differently, that's all, it's not his fault.”

Athos reached out to touch Aramis' knee to show his appreciation for Aramis' concern. “No she...I mean...you don't need feel angry on my behalf.”

The truth was that Athos barely knew his mother. Back when he was a child he saw very little of her because she was always busy hosting dinner-parties or going out to 'luncheon' with her friends. When she was in the house she mostly just marched around ordering staff about. He only ever interacted with his mother at meal times when he would be questioned about his day and his lessons and he sometimes saw her at bedtime when she at least came in to kiss him goodnight before leaving him in the hands of his nanny.

Thomas had somehow managed to develop more of a relationship with their mother but Thomas was Thomas; happy, charming and more outgoing in nature. Athos would often spot Thomas walking with her in the garden or hear Thomas showing her one of his paintings. She appeared to find Thomas easier to understand and more endearing but even Thomas was, on the whole, rather neglected by her.

“...she just didn't seem to know how to be a mother,” Athos explained after his brief reflection on the matter.

Aramis didn't look remarkably convinced but he leaned forward and kissed Athos on the forehead before moving off the bed in defeat.

“Alright, I won't say anything if you don't want me to.”

“I don't no, but thank you,” Athos pointed out and then sighed upon realising he'd also have to move. He had rather enjoying lying in bed with Aramis and Porthos. Now he felt exposed again.

“And don't take anything she says to heart,” Porthos added. “She just doesn't think before she speaks sometimes.”

With Aramis thinking god knows what about his mother, they all made their way out of the bedroom, minus Frodo who it was decided should be left in the room, and headed downstairs. M. Hubert bowed as they walked past to enter the dining-room where Athos found that his mother was already there sitting at the head of the table. She didn't look at all pleased to see them.

“Hubert told me that you had brought a friend.”

Athos ignored her disapproving comment for a moment and sat at the table which was already covered in enough food to feed the entire French army. He briefly wondered if it was always like this or if the cook just got a little over excited when guests came to the house.

“Yes, this is Aramis. You said that I could invite friends over.”

“I didn't mean whilst I was here,” she snapped and then looked up at Aramis and Porthos who hadn't sat down yet, they both appeared to be somewhat confused about the seating arrangements. “Well...sit down then before the food gets cold.”

Aramis, who looked a little shell-shocked thanks to the rude greeting, obediently did as he was told and pulled back a chair sat down. Thankfully Porthos had the sense to sit between Aramis and Athos' mother.

“And hello, mother, it's good to see you,” Athos said sarcastically and briefly studied her. She was dressed in an elegant silver dress with a pearl necklace like she was hosting the French Prime Minister. Yet she still looked thin and not even her layers of make-up could completely hide the black-bags beneath her eyes.

“Well tuck in, gentleman,” she suggested. “As you're all here I may as well feed you.”

So they did as they were told. Porthos happily filled his plate up but Aramis was more hesitant and just placed a small amount of food onto his plate. Athos wanted to encourage him but decided not to say anything which would draw attention to Aramis for the moment.

“So, it seems that having a gay son is indeed the need 'in' thing,” she informed them once they had all started eating. “Clara and the other ladies from the golf club were very jealous when I told them.”

“I'm glad that I've improved your social status, that's so terribly important,” Athos muttered but she completely ignored his comment and reached out a hand to touch Porthos on the arm.

“And when I told them that my son's boyfriend was also a police detective and such a tall, handsome, young man...well....I was suddenly getting invites to all sorts of social engagements. Of course I said that you were two were too busy to attend with me, putting the most deadly serial killers into jail and such like.”

Porthos smiled at her politely.

“And what is your chosen career, Aramis?” She then asked, taking her hand off Porthos to pat the side of her mouth with a napkin. Aramis' eyes shot across at her and Athos noticed Aramis' grip tighten on his knife and fork.

“Umm well I work in a restaurant,” he responded quietly.

“Oh, you're a chef? How lovely,” she smiled at least.

“No, I...I take orders and things.”

Her smile promptly disappeared.

“You're a waiter?”

Aramis nodded but didn't say anything further.

“Darling, that's not a career,” she informed him which caused Athos to question if he should intervene, he didn't really want his mother quizzing Aramis on his choice of career because that could well lead to places she wouldn't want to go. Athos opened his mouth with the intention of changing the subject but Aramis spoke first.

“Isn't it?”

“No, that's just what struggling actors and self-published novel writers do in order to make money. Do you want to act?”

Aramis appeared to think about what she was saying for a moment before he shook his head from side to side. “No, not really.”

“Well that's a shame.” Her attention went back to her soup which she stirred slowly with a spoon. “You're very handsome, I'm sure you'd turn some heads in auditions.”

“Mother...” Athos spoke faster this time because he was quite horrified, was she flirting with his boyfriend?

“What?” she asked innocently. “I was giving your friend a compliment. Don't scold me, darling, I wouldn't normally even let serving staff eat at the table but I'll allow it this time because he's your friend and it feels rather exciting and modern.”

She smiled to herself and sipped soup off her spoon. Athos rolled his eyes and glanced over at Porthos who appeared to be finding it more amusing than insulting. Then Porthos leaned across at Aramis and whispered something to him, gesturing towards the food with his fork. Whatever Porthos said obviously reassured Aramis to take more food because he reached out and grabbed another slice of quiche and some onion tartlets.

Comforted by the sight of Porthos looking after Aramis, Athos turned his attention back to his mother.

“Do you know when he'll be here?”

“No. He just sent me one of those phone message things saying he'd be home on Sunday. Home...honestly...he has some cheek calling it that.”

“He didn't say anything else?” Athos asked, needing to know what they were all letting themselves in for if possible.

“No, that was all.”

“Do you know anything about the other woman?”

“Darling!” His mother suddenly snapped. “Why are you asking me about this at the dining-table in front of your friends?”

“Sorry,” Athos mumbled and looked across apologetically at the other two. “But they both know why we're here.”

“It's not a subject for the dinner table,” his mother scolded him and Athos knew that she was probably right so he dropped the subject. They all ate quietly for a couple of minutes until Porthos broke the awkward silence.

“Hope you don't mind if Aramis and I explore the gardens tomorrow?” he asked politely. “Aramis has brought his dog so we thought we could go and explore.”

“Oh please do,” she said. “Walk as far as you want to walk, we own a few hundred acres of land. What do you like to do in your spare time, Porthos?”

“Me?” Porthos seemed somewhat surprised at being asked such a question. “Oh...well don't get a lot of spare time to do much really. Mostly I work and sleep. I don't know we...I like cooking a lot. So I tend to do most of the cooking. I used to do boxing but I don't do much of that these days.”

“Lovely,” Athos' mother responded and actually sounded like she meant it. “We have a new cook here actually. Well when I say new, she has been here a couple of years now. We had a lovely cook back when the children were younger, Madame Marthe, do you remember her, Athos?”

Athos nodded. He remembered her very well as he was very fond of her growing up. She used to sneak him and Thomas sweet treats at the weekends and Athos would always hide with her in the kitchen when there was a party going on upstairs. If only he had paid enough attention during those times to learn how to cook for himself, that would have at least been a useful skill.

“...but she eventually retired so we had a male cook for a few years after that but, my goodness, that man had a drinking problem. I even had to go downstairs once, would you believe, when dinner didn't appear only to find him passed out over a chopping board. I had to get rid of him. So yes, we have a new cook now. She's from Eastern Europe, I can't remember which country. She's very blunt and says things as it is, you know, like those people do but I rather admire her for that. And, Aramis, what do you like to do in your spare time?”

Aramis looked stunned at suddenly being the centre of attention and froze with his fork dangling in mid-air. Athos waited for a couple of seconds for Aramis to say something and was about to interject in order to help out when finally Aramis appeared to find is voice.

“I...I...I like reading.”

“Oh wonderful. Do go and make use of our library then. I don't think those books ever get read anymore. Borrow whichever ones you like.”

Aramis' eyes immediately lit up. “You have a library?”

“Of course we do. Athos can show you.”

Aramis then smiled to himself for the rest of the meal, clearly excited, whilst Athos' mother told them all about the rooms and the history of the house, which Porthos had heard before but he was very diplomatically not reminding her of that fact. By the time she had finished talking she had barely touched her soup but pushed the bowl away nonetheless.

“You must forgive me for being unsocial but I will stay in my room for the afternoon as I haven't been feeling well.”

Athos felt incredibly relieved that she was going to leave them alone for the rest of the day. He sat back in his chair and let out a long breath until he noticed that Porthos was frowning and nodding towards her. Athos had no-idea what Porthos was trying to suggest which just caused Porthos to nod at her even more furiously. Athos really hoped that Porthos wasn't trying to imply that they should talk to her about of it, because that was never going to happen.

Porthos then mouthed something which Athos interpreted to be something along the lines of 'walk her upstairs'. Oh, Porthos was just prompting Athos to be polite and Athos decided he could do that at least.

“Let me walk you to your bedroom,” he offered.

By that time she had stood up and briefly looked stunned by the offer.

“That would be lovely,” she eventually said so Athos pushed his own chair back, stood up and joined her. He was then rather startled when she locked her arm around his own and let him guide her. The way she semi-clung onto him made Athos wonder just how 'unwell' she actually was as physical contact wasn't something which was normal for their relationship. He waited though until they were out of the dining-room so the other two couldn't hear before questioning it.

“You are looking after yourself, aren't you?”

“The staff look after me.”

“I know but...you are eating and sleeping?”

“Yes, when I can,” she said, which concerned Athos slightly but she seemed steady enough when they reached the stairs and began to ascend.

“What exactly are you expecting me to do tomorrow?” he then asked, wanting to check what it was she expected of him.

“Well, we need to confront your father and you need to stop him from throwing me out.”

“Throwing you out?” Athos was shocked that she thought it would go that far. “He wouldn't do that. You're still his wife.”

“It's not about what he wants, is it? It'll be that mistress of his. Do you think anyone would actually fall in love with that old fool? No, she's after his money and along with the money comes this house. She'll want to live in his house and she won't want me here.”

“Mother...” Athos sighed, not really knowing what to say. Athos had no-idea who this 'mistress' even was let alone felt like he could judge what she may or may not want. “...let's just see, shall we? You said he has had affairs before, I don't know why you think this one is different.”

“Because it is,” she insisted. “It just is. The others were all secretaries and maids, he never took them on holiday, he never spent any proper time with them.”

Maids? Athos was shocked at the revelation. He thought back to the maids who had worked in the house when he had lived there. A lot of them were just young women, very eager to please and the thought of his father screwing them was...it made Athos feel even more angry but he kept his thoughts to himself as they made it up the stairs. Athos nearly turned left at the top which was where his room was but his mother tugged to the right which served as a reminder they were heading towards hers.

“I'm sorry.” It was all Athos could really say. He had never liked his parents but discovering that their entire marriage was just one big lie, a fabrication made up to in order to look perfect to the outside world, gave him a mixed feeling of both rage and sadness...the latter reversed mostly for his mother. “Why did you keep it from me?”

“Keep what from you?”

“All of the affairs...your marriage.”

“Well I couldn't exactly tell you as a child, could I? Then you ran away to England and I've barely seen you since you came back.”

Athos didn't want to touch her anymore so he let his arm slip away from hers.

“And whose fault is that?” he asked, turning to look at her. He wasn't a child anymore, he was a grown man and he was no longer intimidated by his parents...he told himself there and then. She stopped walking as well and looked him up and down as if confused by his sudden annoyance.

“Well we haven't moved, you've always known where we are.”

“Yes, living in this house stuck in 19th century,” Athos pointed out. “When I told you I was joining the police force, you were disappointed. When I told you I was getting a divorce, you asked me what I had done wrong. When I told you I had a boyfriend, you informed me not to contact you again until I finished my 'angry at women' phase and come to my senses. Yes, I wonder why you've barely seen me.”

“Oh, darling...” She reached out to stroke Athos' cheek and he immediately he stepped away to avoid her hand. She looked offended for a second but then lowered her arm. “...I thought it was just a phase but clearly it isn't and I like Porthos.”

“Only because you've discovered it's fashionable to have a gay son! Not because you love me and respect my choices.”

Athos knew that he was losing his cool and he knew that he needed to walk away before he said something that he would really regret but he couldn't seem to get his feet to move as he found that he had more to say.

“I'm sorry about what you're going through, it's terrible and I feel bad for you but let's not suddenly pretend that we're best friends, okay? Because we're not.”

He finally turned and marched back down the hallway, leaving her behind. He then hurried down the stairs, past his judgmental ancestors, before bursting back into the dining-room where the other two were still sitting. It was then he realised that he could barely breathe, despite the fact his chest was heaving, he couldn't seem to find any air.

“There he is,” Porthos said, although he did raise an eyebrow noticing the state Athos was in. “You can ask him now.”

Athos wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to scream or cry, but he continued to just try to keep breathing for the moment and, in the meantime, he turned to look at Aramis.

“Can I take some of the meat for Frodo?” Aramis asked and there was something about seeing Aramis and being reminded of his sweetness, kindness and endurance and seeing Porthos and remembering his strength, heart and loyalty that made Athos pause. These two men were everything to him; his entire world and all he ever wanted and needed. Screw his parents, screw his past life, his new life was far better than anything he could have ever imagined.

“Of course you can,” he said and then hurried over to the table. The speed of Athos' movements caused Aramis to stand up from his chair, obviously sensing that something was wrong. Athos was grateful for this as it meant, the second he got to Aramis, he could grab him and kiss the life out of him which was exactly what he proceeded to do. Aramis melted into the kiss and into Athos' arms, moaning with delight the second Athos started kissing him, Athos felt fingers grip tightly onto his hair and tug as let out all of his fury and passion and love into the kiss.

By the time he pulled away they were both panting.

“I love you,” he said, making sure that he turned his head to aim the comment across to Porthos who was still sitting in his chair but looking a little flabbergasted. “And I love you,” he mentioned again, this time looking at Aramis who appeared to be dazed from the kiss. “You're both amazing and I don't know why you love me but I'm grateful for it in a daily basis.”

“Oh, love...” Porthos said before standing up. “...I dunno what just happened with your mother but trust me, I feel very lucky to have you in my life and now I feel even more lucky because Aramis is with us as well. Sometimes stuff feels tough in the outside world so I just keep reminding myself that we have each other and that makes everything okay.”

Athos nodded in agreement. It was all that mattered. Fuck his parents, fuck Marsac and everyone else who had done damage to them, they had each other and that was all that mattered.

“Grab some meat and let's go upstairs,” Athos suggested. “I need you both in my bed right now. I'll show you the library later, I promise.” Athos kissed Aramis on the cheek.

The bed was large which made it even more fun. He wasn't even sure whose clothes he was pulling off, it seemed to be a frantic mess of chaos but soon he was underneath Porthos' warm naked body and Porthos was kissing him. Porthos was so lazy with his kisses it always drove Athos mad. Compared to Aramis' passionate kisses, Porthos was teasing and slow. Athos just melted into the bed until the lips went away and Athos was left feeling woozy.

“What do you need from us?” came a soft whisper into his ear.

“You,” Athos admitted. “I need you.”

The comment made Porthos chuckle. “Want to be more specific?”

“No, I don't know I...” Athos' head was feeling so fuzzy that he could barely think. “I want you to make love to me,” he blurted out.

“I'd be happy to. And what do you want from Aramis?”

“Mmm...” Having anything from Aramis sounded delightful. “What does Aramis want?”

“I'd ask him but...” Porthos said before pausing to nibble onto Athos' earlobe briefly. “...I think it should be your choice. I'm sure Aramis would be happy to...” Porthos laughed again. “Yeah he's nodding at me with a gorgeous smile on his face right now. Pretty sure he's happy with whatever you want.”

Athos tried to think about but it was difficult with a beautiful naked man licking at his ear and rubbing up against his straining erection. “I...I want Aramis to kiss me and touch me,” Athos requested but then instantly regretted it when Porthos' warm, heavy body disappeared leaving Athos exposed and alone. Only it didn't stay that way for long, he looked for Aramis and Aramis was there, leaning over and kissing him. Athos chewed on Aramis' bottom lip to make sure that he didn't try to leave as well.

Porthos soon reappeared with a... “You two look so gorgeous together.”

Athos had to stop kissing Aramis for a moment to pant. Hands were on his legs, bending them and opening them up. Then a wet finger was circling around his arse and then piercing him gently. It made Athos moan and rocked his hips up, feeling delighted by the intrusion. Hair tickled at his chest and then warm lips pressed against his skin.

“Pass me a cushion,” Porthos said at one stage and the warm lips on his chest promptly disappeared. A moment later his hips were being raised and a soft cushion was placed at the bottom of his back.

“That's better,” Porthos muttered and then a second wet finger pushed inside. Athos groaned and tried to relax as the fingers stretched and pushed in and out. A tongue was now on his nipple, wiggling against it, causing his cock to throb and leak. Athos reached out and grabbed onto Aramis' curls without thinking and whined with need as Aramis' tongue did incredible things.

“Love, you're gonna have to relax a bit,” came Porthos' soothing words. “Just relax, you're too worked up and tight.”

Athos nodded, he loosened his grip on Aramis' hair and tried to calm himself down. Aramis' face then appeared in his line of sight and the man was smiling.

“You're beautiful,” Athos sighed, drunk on lust and happiness. The compliment made Aramis' smile widen. Athos reached out a shaky hand and touched Aramis' chest. Then as Aramis lay beside him and whilst Porthos' fingers continued to stretch, Athos moved his hand down Aramis' chest, over his stomach and then reached for his cock. Aramis closed his eyes and groaned as Athos wrapped his fingers around Aramis' erection and began to stroke it. Aramis was incredibly pleasing on the eye at the best of times but when his mouth was open and he was whimpering and aroused, he just looked utterly delightful.

Athos stroked up and down, tugging gently and enjoying all of the noises which were escaping Aramis' lips. He only paused briefly to hiss in pain when Porthos inserted yet another finger into his tight hole a little too forcefully.

“Sorry,” Porthos mumbled. “Got distracted watching the two of you.” Porthos then pulled his fingers back which caused Athos to protest.

“No! Keep going. I need to be stretched, keep going,” Athos insisted. He couldn't wait to have Porthos inside but it had been a while and Athos was well aware how of blessed Porthos was. So Porthos pushed his fingers back in, slower this time and Athos closed his eyes and groaned, trying to concentrate on giving Aramis a hand-job. He listened to Aramis' whimpers and felt his leaking hardness in his fist. Then lips were against his again, frenzied and excited. Athos smiled against them and gave Aramis back as much as he was getting until Aramis suddenly cried out in pleasure. It made Athos' eyes shoot open as he didn't think that he had made Aramis orgasm yet, so what was with....

When he opened his eyes Aramis was now groaning loudly and had his own eyes closed, he was on his hands and knees, pumping his cock forward into Athos' fist and....Athos noticed that Porthos had a cheeky grin on his face.

“What are you doing?” Athos asked the man who was kneeling between his legs.

“Got an idea,” Porthos said and that was when Athos noticed that, whilst the fingers of one hand were still stretching Athos, his other hand appeared to be between Aramis' arse-cheeks.

“Are you...” Athos grinned at the thought; Porthos was preparing them both.

“Do you trust me?” Porthos asked and then winked. Athos nodded and smiled back, because he did trust him, he trusted Porthos more than anything. Reluctantly he let go of Aramis' cock, worried the man was going to have an early orgasm with all of the noises he was making. Aramis didn't seem to mind, he was enjoying having Porthos' fingers inside him too much, rocking back and forth on his hands and knees, fucking himself on Porthos' fingers with enthusiasm. And Athos continued to try and relax, he was now taking three of Porthos' fingers and it felt incredible.

After another couple of minutes of being stretched and lubricated, Porthos removed his fingers which caused Aramis to whine with disappointment which had Athos chuckling.

“Come here,” he insisted and Aramis all but collapsed down on top of Athos and they shared a long, sloppy, uncoordinated kiss.

“Aramis, grab a pillow, put it under your stomach and lie on your front,” came an instruction from Porthos so Aramis crawled off Athos to do just that. Athos raised his head and watched Aramis do it and then lustfully let his gaze linger from Aramis' bare back down to his arse-cheeks which were rather round and adorable. He had two little dimples above them as well which Athos wanted to kiss. But soon his legs were being bent as Porthos leaned forward between them to kiss Athos tenderly. Athos moaned with delight at the familiar taste and it was only when Porthos pulled away that he revealed his idea.

“Make love to him whilst I make love to you.”

Athos' eye went wide at the idea. It sounded...incredible. He glanced across at Aramis who was smiling and biting onto his bottom lip with excitement. God the man even wiggled his arse teasingly.

“Fuck,” was all Athos managed to say but Porthos tugged at his arm to help him sit up and, somehow, he managed to turn around so that he could crawl over the back of Aramis' body.

“Let me help you, you sexy man,” Porthos then said from behind and reached around to grab Athos' cock. Athos groaned as Porthos used his other hand to open up Aramis' arse-cheeks.

“He's all stretched and ready for you.”

Aramis pushed his arse upwards which caused Porthos to chuckle.

“Look how much he wants you.”

“I do!” Aramis insisted. “Please, I do. I want Athos.”

With Aramis' begging Athos allowed himself to be guided towards his needy hole. He was ready and wet and, oh god, when the head of Athos' cock pierced the ring, all three of them were moaning. Athos fell from his hands down onto his elbows because his arms were shaking so much but there he managed to grip onto the bed-sheets.

“Fuck,” Athos groaned as Aramis whimpered in delight.

“Good job, Aramis,” Porthos encouraged. “How does he feel?”

“Amazing,” Aramis whispered. “Keep going.”

So Athos did, with a moan he pushed forward and encouraged Aramis' muscles to let him in. Sinking deeply into Aramis was making Athos' head spin, Aramis felt so hot and delightful.

“Thrust a little bit, love, that's right.”

Porthos now placed his hands on Athos' hips and he encouraged Athos to pull his hips back slightly before pushing them forward again, his cock sinking deeper into Aramis.

“Oh god, that's it,” Porthos groaned into his ear. “It's like I can feel it. Keep going. He wants you.”

Athos did it again, this time some of Aramis' muscles gave way and he sunk in so deeply that his hips pressed up against Aramis' arse-cheeks. Aramis was crying out in pleasure, his forehead sinking into the mattress.

“Athos,” he groaned. “Feels so good.”

That was when Porthos' large cock slid between Athos' own arse cheeks and began to rub up and down. It brushed up against Athos' own needy hole which felt like torment and Athos was so over-stimulated already that he was worried that he might passed-out again.

“Make love to him,” Porthos encouraged, his voice doing deeper with arousal which made the hairs on Athos' neck stand on end. Athos did though. Somehow he managed to gain some sort of control over his body and he began to rock his hips back and forth slowly, stroking his cock in and out of Aramis.

“Yes, perfect, love,” Porthos whispered. “Open your legs up a little bit for me.”

Athos managed to slide his legs open slightly, which forced Aramis to do the same but the man below didn't seem to mind, in fact he was just making noises of pleasure and seemingly happy down below. But then Athos felt something hard and big pushing between his arse-cheeks and sinking into him. He tried to remember to breathe and relax, to allow it in. It hurt at first, just for a moment, but Porthos didn't move, he let his cock linger at Athos' entrance.

“Oh my god,” Athos muttered.

“Just relax,” Porthos said as he reached around and stroked Athos' chest. “God, love, fuck you feel perfect.”

Little by little, Porthos sunk himself in another inch, then pulled back a bit, then sunk in a little more. Athos had stilled his own hips in the meantime, still half inside of Aramis. It was only when Aramis turned his head and began to protest Athos realised that he had frozen.

“Athos!” he begged, looking back at them. “Please...please...”

Athos opened his mouth to say something when Porthos thrust forward, shoving his cock into Athos and forcing Athos' cock deeper into Aramis. It made both Athos and Aramis to cry out in synchronization.

“That okay?” Porthos asked. That okay?! That was amazing! Athos thought but couldn't seem to say that out loud so a mumbled groan was the best he could do. It made Porthos do it again at least, he was holding onto Athos' hips again and he pulled Athos back slightly as he slid back himself and then pushed forward, forcing Athos into Aramis at the same time.

“Porthos!” Aramis was yelling now, obviously not sure whose name to use. “Don't stop, more...please.”

“Hey, Aramis,” Porthos said, he was breathing heavily but obviously trying to speak. “With us, you can have whatever you want, okay? Always.”

Athos saw Aramis smiled before the man turned back to face the mattress. Porthos then started a slow rhythm and Athos allowed himself to be pulled back and pushed forward happily because his brain wasn't working enough to form any sort of decision so Porthos doing it all for him was exactly what he needed. Aramis felt delightful and Porthos inside felt perfect and Athos was felt intoxicated with it all. He never wanted it to end, he wanted to be locked between his two lovers forever.

“Jesus,” he muttered at one stage when Aramis teasingly tightened his arse at one point once Athos was inside. It made his own muscles clench as he attempted to hold back his orgasm which, in turn, had Porthos groaning. They were all connected in the most delightfully dirty way.

“Is this good, love?” Porthos whispered into Athos' ear and Athos nodded.

“Faster,” though he insisted. All of the slowness and gentleness was beginning to feel frustrating. He wanted to be fucked nice and hard and he needed to come inside of Aramis.

“Your wish is my command,” Porthos chuckled and then, all of a sudden, pulled back and then forcefully thrust forward causing Athos to yelp in shock and Aramis groan in surprise.

“Oh that's good, that's good...” Aramis was muttering which caused Athos to smile. He liked the fact they were pleasing Aramis and causing him to be in his current delusional state of enjoyment.

Porthos didn't hold back much then, he began to thrust more forcefully, grunting each time he shoved inside of Athos which, in turn, had Athos' hips slapping up against Aramis' arse-cheeks as he pounded into him and the louder Athos and Aramis got, the faster Porthos did it. It wasn't long until they were in a frenzy, with Aramis crying out with each thrust and mumbling both of their names almost incoherently as he was thoroughly fucked beneath them all, and Athos whimpering and gasping and generally feeling splendidly overwhelmed.

Porthos didn't have to hold onto Athos' hips for much longer, the pounding of his hips was enough to make Athos' own groin bounce up and down. Instead Porthos gripped onto Athos' shoulders as he rode his arse. Athos closed his eyes and listened to the noise of their bodies slapping, Porthos grunting and Aramis in ecstasy as his arse was pounded into by Porthos' huge cock and his own throbbing erection was thoroughly fucking Aramis until his muscles began to tighten and his balls felt hot and...

He gasped loudly and then his body stiffened as he came. It felt like an explosion, bursts and waves emptied into Aramis. At the same time Porthos thrust into him with one final hard push and then Athos felt a rush of wetness inside as Porthos had his own orgasm. Athos' saw nothing but white until his tight muscles began to relax and he sunk down onto Aramis' back feeling utterly spent. Porthos did the same thing, falling down onto Athos' back, they both gently squashed Aramis who only chuckled and wiggled.

“Hey!” He protested after a couple of minutes which made Athos smile and kiss Aramis' shoulder tenderly.

“Sorry,” Athos apologised and then attempted to reach back to slap Porthos on the thigh. “Think we forgot something,” he mumbled in his state of post-orgasm bliss.

“Oh yeah,” Porthos chortled and managed to roll off Athos which allowed Athos to do the same. Aramis lifted his head and smiled at them both.

“Come on then,” Porthos said and grabbed onto Aramis and rolled him onto his back. Indeed Athos was right, Aramis was still hard.

“After you,” Porthos then said to Athos and Athos immediately picked up his meaning.

“Only if you join me?” Athos raised an eyebrow and smiled

“It would be my pleasure,” Porthos nodded, pretending to be serious.

Athos immediately wrapped his fingers around Aramis' cock and began to pump it furiously. Porthos' hand joined him and they both tugged and pulled and fisted Aramis who was whimpering and wiggling and cursing until he came, a delightful sight with Aramis reaching out to grip onto both of their arms as he shot himself all over his own stomach and chest until he was covered in his own mess.

“Beautiful,” Porthos noted as Aramis signed with happiness and sunk his head back down onto the mattress, Athos had to agree.


	48. The Questions

They were all exhausted. Every muscle in Athos' body ached and his arse was delightfully sore but he couldn't stop thinking about the sweat, other 'body fluids' and everything else which was all over their skin and the bed-sheets. He looked at Aramis who had his eyes closed and a huge smile on his face. He appeared to be dozing off as Porthos drew circles on his stomach. Athos desperately wanted to just leave them alone as they both looked so relaxed but he just couldn't; they all needed to go and wash and the bed-sheets had to be changed.

“Hey...” Porthos whispered across to Athos from the other side of Aramis' drowsy form. “...you enjoy that?”

Athos attempted to smile back. “It was very special,” he admitted. “But we need to...”

He couldn't bring himself to say it because he felt terrible about it. The other two were both so comfortable, Athos didn't want to ruin everything but...

“I know, I'll get him washed and you do the sheets,” Porthos said and, just like that, he patted Aramis' stomach gently.

“Come on, handsome. We need to go and wash.”

Aramis opened his eyes and frowned. “Wash?”

“Yeah,” Porthos pushed himself up until he was sitting. “Come on.”

Aramis didn't question it but did groan as Porthos pulled him up but, as Athos watched him grab his arse-cheeks, he realised that the groan was probably more from the same aches and twinges that Athos himself was experiencing.

Whilst Porthos and Aramis were in the shower, Athos changed the bed-sheets. When they got out he went in to wash himself. Once everyone was clean, including the bed, Athos could finally relax. He came out with a smile when he found the other two lounging on the bed again, both now wearing jeans but nothing else. Porthos was resting against the pillows and Aramis was sitting between his legs, leaning back against Porthos' broad chest; a sight Athos found utterly adorable.

“Athos, come over here. Aramis said that he wants to ask us some questions and I thought that it was best that we answer them together.”

Questions? Athos knew immediately that it would be about his OCD but he slipped some underwear on and went over anyway, prepared to answer whatever Aramis wanted to know as Aramis deserved his honesty. Athos' behaviour had been even more bizarre than normal since coming to his parents house, he was well aware of that, the bathroom fainting incident still very much on his mind.

Athos sat himself down on the bed and, grabbing one of the many cushions to soften his back against a bed-post, he faced the other two. Porthos appeared to give Aramis a squeeze and then kissed the side of his neck.

“Ask away, love.”

Aramis opened his mouth to speak but then faltered slightly, only briefly, before finally asking what was on his mind. “Do you ever fuck Porthos?”

Porthos' eyes went wide in shock before an amused snort and a playful smile appeared on his face. Athos felt the same although was perhaps less expressive about it. That hadn't been the question he was expecting but, as Aramis was curious, he gave it some proper thought before answering.

“We haven't done it that way round in a while I must admit. I can't even remember the last time.”

Porthos joined in to help. “Yeah not so much these days. I suppose we should have talked about this with you a while ago, huh? Umm so...let's see...I think Athos likes doing both but, I must admit, I do enjoy giving more than taking. We have done it the other way round in the past but yeah, guess we haven't in a while. We've both got our preferences. Like Athos doesn't like giving blow-jobs whereas I do.”

Aramis appeared to be taken back by the last statement and he immediately stared at Athos.

“You don't?”

Athos shook his head. He could explain all the reasons why he didn't but there didn't seem to be much point and it might just confused Aramis even further.

“What do you like?” Athos asked whilst Aramis was looking at him hoping that, as Aramis was obviously thinking about it, perhaps he was also contemplating his own desires.

“I like making people happy.”

Obviously not then. Although it was an honest answer in its own way but this time Porthos was having none of it.

“That's not what Athos wants to know,” he pointed out. “He meant what do you like doing sexually? Are you a top or a bottom? Or both? And, if you don't know what that means, do you like people fucking you or do you like being the one doing the fucking?”

Aramis actually took a moment to think about it. “Umm depends on who I'm with.”

“Fair enough,” Porthos nodded once before kissing Aramis on the temple tenderly. “But now you're with us, so what would you prefer to do? Maybe you want to do everything but some people have preferences like Athos and I do.”

“I've never really thought about it.”

I bet you haven't, Athos thought privately. I bet no-one has ever even asked you before. You've spent your entire life having sex but it was always about pleasing the other person in order to earn money and never about you. Athos waited as did Porthos, both desperately hoping that Aramis would be-able to tell them...if he was capable of such a thing.

“Umm...” Aramis continued, turning his head slightly as if speaking mostly to Porthos. “...I love it when Athos fucks me and I wish you'd fuck me, I think and wish that a lot.” Aramis actually looked embarrassed about his confession; the man was adorable. “So...I guess I prefer it that way round but I don't know because the thought of fucking Athos like you do makes me feel excited as well. I want to get him make those noises too. So...does that mean I like both?”

“Yeah I guess it does,” Porthos grinned in happiness about the fact Aramis had managed to express his desires to them. “Thank you for being honest with us. And it's something which might change as time goes by as well, you may decide you like something different so just keep talking to us about it, okay? And we'll do the same with you.”

“And I'm good at blow-jobs!” Aramis then pointed out.

“But do you like giving them?” Athos asked. He knew it was a sensitive subject to bring up with Aramis but, now they had a sexual relationship and Aramis was asking these questions, it felt like a good chance to try and discover a true, honest answer because, if the answer was no, then Athos would never expect Aramis to do it ever again.

Aramis paused before eventually smiling.

“I do with you and Porthos. I didn't always before. Sometimes people were rough.”

Athos knew that was probably the most truthful answer they were ever going to get. He reached out and gave Aramis' leg a squeeze, smiling at him.

“Porthos and I aren't perfect and we won't always get things right but I can promise you one thing, we always want you to enjoy anything you do with us and we'll try our very best to make sure that you do.”

Aramis smiled back and appeared to be relieved that he now understood things a little more.

“Do you want to see the library?” Athos then asked, remembering how excited Aramis had been about it earlier.

So, after slipping on more in the way of clothing, Athos walked them both downstairs and through the corridors towards the library which was in the corner of the house. It was a beautiful room, in fact it was Athos' favourite room. It was long and thin and two of the walls had windows and window-seats, the other two walls were full of bookshelves and books, seven shelves high. There was also a desk with several books pilled on top of it, a few chairs dotted around and a fireplace with another of Athos' ancestors posing proudly above it. Aramis, understandably, gasped as he came in.

“You have got to be shitting me,” was Aramis' first comment which caused Porthos to laugh. “This is incredible!” Came the second comment.

“Borrow whatever you like,” Athos suggested. “No-one will notice it's even gone.”

He watched as Aramis immediately went over to finger the books and pull a few out to have a look before carefully putting them back.

“Wow, some of them are really old!”

Athos watched, his heart warming at the sight of Aramis acting like a kid in a candy shop. Then Porthos came over and he felt arms being wrapped around his stomach from behind.

“So this was your hiding place, huh?”

Athos nodded. “I spent a lot of time in my bedroom but yes, here as well. I would sit on one of the window-seats with a book, draw the curtains and hide. Sometimes I stayed in here for hours.”

A firm kiss was placed on the side of his head.

“Makes me sad to think of you like that. I know you had this huge house and the money and probably everything a kid would ever want...but you didn't have love and attention and everything a child actually needs.”

Porthos was right, although Athos didn't want him to believe that his entire childhood was depressing and grim.

“I had Thomas,” he pointed out. “Thomas was a good thing in my life. We were very close.”

He felt another kissed. “Yeah, but then you lost that as well.”

Porthos squeezed him and Athos nodded. He did lose Thomas. It was the worst day of his life being told the news that Thomas had died. Thomas had so much life in him and so much to give, it was cruel that his life had been ended so tragically short. Athos still missed him deeply; his smile, infectious laugh and his kind heart. Then he watched Aramis pull out another book and realised that Aramis reminded him a little of Thomas, Aramis had the same kindness despite his desperately sad past.

“You really can take some,” Athos pointed out, watching as Aramis put another book back onto the shelf.

“Oh, I'm just deciding,” Aramis explained with a smile. “There's so much choice. Too much choice. I don't even know where to start.”

“Hmm well take your time,” Athos suggested. “We have all day. I'm not sure if my mother will appear again.”

She didn't. She sent her apologies down for not joining them for dinner. Athos wondered if he had upset her but then decided that he shouldn't care, he had come all the way to the house to support her like she had asked, that was enough for the time-being. So they had a nice dinner by themselves with pie and vegetables and then took a long, slow walk in the garden with Frodo. Later that evening they all read books which they had gathered from the library, Aramis had selected as many as he could carry.

It felt mean to kick Aramis out of the bed once it was time to sleep so Athos decided to relax about it. No-one would come to that end of the corridor anyway and he was also beginning to care a lot less about scandalizing his parents.

It took Athos a long time to fall asleep, this mind a whirl of anxiety and worry. However, he must have dozed off eventually as morning greeted Athos with the delightful sound of Aramis laughing.

“You won't fit,” Aramis was whispering. “And Athos won't like it. No, stay down there.”

Athos couldn't quite figure out what was going on in his sleepy-state and his dirty mind briefly wondered if Aramis was talking to Porthos until he managed to open his eyes and spotted Aramis lying on his stomach across Porthos' lap, talking to someone on the floor. Frodo's wet nose and panting tongue suddenly appeared as the animal put its legs up onto the mattress.

“No,” Aramis was laughing again and gently pushed at the dog's paws to try and get them off the bed.

“You're not listening to me, are you, Frodo? I'll come down for hugs in a minute. Porthos and I are going to take you out for another long walk today.”

Porthos' hand was on Aramis' bare back.

“Frodo, no!” Aramis laughed again when the dog, once more, tried to get up onto the bed. “What's wrong with you?”

“He's probably just confused about being somewhere unfamiliar,” Porthos whispered.

Athos couldn't help but stare at the curve of Aramis' arse which was peeking out from beneath the covers. The memory of their sex session the day before coming back with a warm rush to Athos' groin. He reached out and placed his hand at the bottom of Aramis' back just beneath Porthos'. The action caused Aramis to turned his head around and smile at Athos.

“Oh, sorry, Athos, I hope we didn't wake you up.”

Athos smiled and shook his head, using his spare hand he rubbed it across his tired face. It was one of the nicest ways he had ever woken up.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning!” Aramis said cheerfully and then wiggled around. Eventually he managed to somehow get himself squeezed into the space between Athos and Porthos.

“How are you feeling today?”

“I'm fine,” Athos lied. He didn't want to see his father, he really didn't. He was already contemplating just going back to Paris and going back to a life where he could pretend that his parents didn't exist at all.

“No you're not,” Aramis corrected him seemingly sensing the truth. He wrapped his arm across Athos' chest and rested his chin on Athos' shoulder. “Everything will be okay though because, whatever happens, you'll come home with me and Porthos and everything will be okay.”

Athos found Aramis' words of comfort incredibly touching.

“Thank you,” he responded with a smile and turned his head to kiss the top of Aramis' hair.

Whilst Athos was in the shower, the other two briefly let Frodo out, then they all went down for breakfast. Breakfast was laid-out across the table; there were warm croissants, cheese, brioche, jam, fruit, yoghurt and just about anything anyone could ever want and far more than they all needed.

Athos' mother did make an appearance at breakfast but she wasn't herself. In fact she barely made a single rude comment and she didn't even look at Athos which gave Athos confused feelings of both guilt and annoyance. She was, however, polite enough to Aramis who had decided to tell her all about the ten books he had borrowed from the library and also about his entire reading history. Athos wasn't entirely sure why Aramis was being so talkative all of a sudden and wondered if it was nerves on Aramis' part. It was, however, nicer to hear him talk than sit in awkward silence.

“Can we go to the library again before Porthos and I go out?” Aramis asked after he had eaten more than Athos had ever seen him eat before despite his non-stop talking. Obviously the library still hadn't been forgotten in Aramis' mind.

“Yes,” Athos and, as soon as Porthos had finished his own third helping of breakfast. “You can do whatever you like.”

The sound of a scraping chair brought Athos' attention back to his mother.

“I'll wait upstairs. Send Hubert to find me once he arrives.”

Athos nodded at her and then watched as she slowly left the room. She looked ill, her movements were sluggish and unsteady.

“Can't be nice, can it?” Porthos pipped up once she was gone.

Athos gave a nod. No, he didn't suppose it was. As much as she drove him mad, she had been married for a very long time and, as far as Athos could tell, she did love her husband and had clearly been loyal to him over the years despite his unfaithfulness to her. So having to wait for that very man to come home to discuss divorce details...it couldn't have been nice at all. But Athos didn't know what to do about it and he certainly wasn't going to follow her this time. He'd be a mediator if he could, but that was it.

They left the table to be cleaned up by someone else and strolled back to the library where Aramis went around looking at pretty much every single book, despite the fact he had already studied them all the day before.

“We need to find him a job in a book shop or a library,” Porthos whispered, coming up to hug Athos. “Look at him, he'd be in heaven.”

“He'd be getting distracted very two seconds,” Athos pointed out with affection.

Porthos chuckled and then tugged Athos around so that they were facing each other.

“How you doing?”

Athos thought about it and, in truth, he wasn't really sure.

“I'm a little nervous, I suppose. I actually wish he'd turn up, I'm had enough of waiting.”

As if on cue there came the faint sound of a car crunching on gravel. Porthos loosened his grip to allow Athos to escape and immediately go over to the window. He knelt on the window-seat and looked across at the front drive. A black Bentley was pulling up. When it stopped a chauffeur got out of the drivers seat and then hurried round to open up one of the back-doors. Athos' father stepped out wearing a business suit. He smoothed out his white shirt as he straightened himself up. His hair was now very gray and his beard was beginning to match the colour. He had always been a handsome man, with a strong nose, square-jaw and now the wrinkle lines on his forehead even suited him.

“He's here,” Athos explained, although he suspected that it was probably pretty obvious.

“Aramis and I will make ourselves scarce,” came the suggestion from Porthos who had also come over to the window to look.

“You can stay in here, or go into the gardens, do whatever you like,” Athos suggested. “Don't feel like you have to hide.”

Athos continued to stare at the car, wondering if a second person was going to come out of the back. When another door opened his worst fear almost came true, had his father brought his mistress? But no, a young man carrying a brief-case stepped out and then all of the car-doors were slammed shut.

“You got this, okay?” came Porthos' reassuring voice. “I know he's your dad but you're a man yourself now, you can stand up to him.”

Athos nodded although the reality of doing that was another thing altogether.

“Alright. I'll go and greet him at the door.”

“We'll be right here, okay? Remember that, we're here with you. If you need us, just come and find us.”

Porthos was smiling and trying to be reassuring. He reached out and squeezed Athos' arm as Aramis also came over.

“He's here already?”

“Yes the car just pulled up.”

Aramis didn't seem to know what to say, he hesitated for a moment before lunging forward and hugging Athos tightly. Athos closed his eyes and smiled. He was a lucky man indeed and he was glad that his two boyfriends had come along but he had to leave them both behind in the library as he went towards the hallway.

By the time he got there M. Hubert had already opened the front door and the chauffeur was carrying bags in. The chauffeur, who looked more like a bodyguard in size, briefly glanced across at Athos but didn't say anything. Athos stood there until his father came through the door talking to the younger man. His father did a double-take when he spotted him.

“Athos?”

Athos attempted to smile, although it felt like an effort. His father came over and looked Athos up and down as he approached, obviously confused by the fact his son was in the house which was understandable.

“Has something happened?” Seemed to be his first question.

“No, well...depends what you mean by happened.”

His father, with a stunned expression, walked closer still. “Your mother?”

“Is fine.” Came the voice of his mother. Athos turned to look at her over his shoulder and watched her coming down the stairs now in an elegant light blue dress, hair-done up, earrings in, looking as prim and proper as always. “I'm afraid I haven't made your life easier by dying quite yet.”

Athos turned back to his father who now had a frown on his face. He ignored his wife for a moment and spoke to Hubert instead.

“All of my clothes need washing I'm afraid,” he said. “If you wouldn't mind?”

Hubert nodded obediently and picked up the bags. Then Athos' father, still not done with his instructions, turned to the burly driver.

“Go and get the car cleaned, Jacques, then take the rest of the day off. I'll call you if I need you.”

He patted 'Jacques' on the arm who nodded and then disappeared back outside. That was that Athos noticed the younger man was openly staring at him with his mouth open. Athos stared back, not entirely sure if he should introduce himself or something. Then again, this was Athos' family home, it was the young man who was the stranger. The kid couldn't have been much older than d'Artagnan. He was traditionally handsome in a preppy way, with perfect hair brushed to the side and a suit which looked far too expensive for a man in his twenties to be wearing. Athos even spotted a Rolex peeping out from underneath his sleeve.

Athos tried to ignore the uncomfortable gaze and turned back to his father.

“Let's have a whiskey,” his father suddenly suggested before walking forward and giving Athos the same pat on the arm he had given his chauffeur.

“I don't drink,” Athos pointed out sternly which appeared to shock his father for a moment but then, as if remembering a past conversation, the older man eventually nodded.

“Oh yes, sorry, well...what do you drink when you don't drink?”

“Coffee and water,” Athos pointed out.

“Then coffee it is. Virginie, see if Lena will make us coffee, would you?”

Did he just...did he just ask his wife to...Athos' mother responded in kind.

“Ask her yourself, you bastard.”

Seemingly unfazed by her disobedience and insult, he tilted his head as if thinking about it and promptly decided to follow the suggestion.

“Fine, come on, Athos.”

He suddenly walked off towards the dining-room leaving Athos and everyone else standing there. Athos turned to his mother who was almost shaking with fury. He sympathized with her and also felt duty-bound to calm her down.

“He...we should let him settle first,” Athos suggested, not even knowing really what that meant as the words came out of his mouth. His mother continued to look angry but spun around and walked off in the opposite direction which at least meant that there was space between his parents for the time-being.

Athos himself briefly glanced again at the stranger who still hadn't moved or spoken, so Athos just left him in the hallway as he headed off into the dining-room. He then followed his father through the door in the corner of the room which lead to a drawing-room and then the stairs down into the kitchen.

The kitchen had barely changed since Athos had last visited many years ago. The large aga still dominated one of the walls although there was a new table unit which appeared to house some more modern appliances. In the middle of the room a middle-aged lady with wavy dark-hair was busy kneading dough at the imposing iron table. Athos' father was chatting to her but stopped when Athos appeared.

“Ah and this is Athos, have you met him yet? You've probably been feeding him. He's my son but he doesn't visit us much these days.” The comment didn't appear to be a challenge but it irked Athos all the same.

“Hello,” he responded, forced to be polite with someone else in the room. The lady smiled across at him as her hands remained busy.

“I have heard all about you,” she said with a strong accident. Eastern European, his mother had mentioned it. “It's nice to finally meet you.”

“How do I work this blasted coffee-machine thing then?”

Obviously not trusting him to do it properly, the cook finally stopped kneading and wiped her hands on a tea-towel before going over to the new table unit and explained what all of the buttons on the coffee-machine did. How a man could get to an age which his father was at without learning how to make coffee, was rather beyond Athos but nothing surprised him anymore when it came to his parents.

“What would you like?” he asked as the cook poured fresh coffee beans into the machine. “It seems to do everything under the sun.”

“A cappuccino would be fine,” Athos requested which resulted in his father pressing a button and then grinning in delight when it began to make noises. Once he was obviously satisfied that his coffee-making lesson was going well he turned back to Athos.

“She called you then?”

Athos nodded and realised that he should have planned a speech or something. He had just assumed that his mother would do most of the yelling and he'd be the one trying to calm them both down. But now he was confronted by his father on his own and he didn't really know what to say. He suddenly wished that Porthos was there as they were a double-act at work, home...when it came to everything, Athos felt very vulnerable without Porthos by his side.

“Hmm she shouldn't have done,” came his father's comment which at least gave Athos a reason to speak.

“She's upset.”

“Your mother is always upset,” he pointed out.

That was true but, still, this was a little more serious than the usual falling out with friends and stressing about garden parties.

“I get the impression that she has a right to be this time,” Athos pointed out and folded his arms because he didn't know what else to do with them.

“What has she told you?”

Athos didn't really want to have such a private conversation in front of the cook but, well, if his father was asking...

“That you're having an affair. And that you've had them before but this time it's different. Oh and you missed your own sister's funeral because you were busy taking your mistress on holiday.”

He father stared across at him for a while looking very serious. It was the look Athos often got before his father's temper exploded. But Athos wasn't a little boy scared of his father's temper anymore, he was a grown man, a detective and he wasn't going to be intimidated anymore.

“Most of that is true,” came the admission with a shrug which left Athos feeling very confused. Had his father just admitted to it all without losing his temper? Without somehow making it everyone else's fault?

“Oh...” For a moment Athos didn't know what else to say. That hadn't been the reaction he had been expecting at all. His folded arms loosened and he dropped them.

“Who is she?” Athos was curious and, with his father's unusually calm reaction, it felt like the right moment to ask.

“Does it matter?” his father asked. “You don't know her. Neither does your mother. She's a director of a small pilot hiring company, I met her through work and none of this is her fault. I'm the married one, she's a widow...it's not her fault.”

Athos was even more surprised. Not only was his father not blaming everyone else which was the man's usual default reaction...he was actually protecting this woman by blaming himself!

“So you're divorcing mother so you can be with her?”

“I...” he paused to pat his fist against the table he was leaning against. “...I don't know. Yes, I suppose I should. It wouldn't be right living with another woman whilst I was still married. It wouldn't be right for either of them.”

“You're living with her?” That hadn't occurred to Athos at all. He hadn't realised that the affair had developed to living together already.

“Not officially, but we have talked about it.”

The coffee machine was now making all sorts of noises and it drew the attention of Athos' father who turned his back on Athos to check on it. “Very clever these things, aren't they?”

“Right so...that's that, is it? You're just going to walk away from forty years of marriage?”

That made his father spin around with an annoyed expression.

“Don't you dare talk to me about marriage. You of all people!”

Athos squinted but found himself not feeling afraid. “What does that mean?”

“You know damn well that that means,” his father spat but then glanced across at the cook guiltily but she was still making some sort of pastry and appeared to be politely ignoring them.

Athos actually knew full well what the comment meant. His parents had always been on Anne's side when it came to their disastrous marriage. She had managed to wrap them around her little finger and, even during the divorce proceedings, they had supported her more than they had supported him.

“I need to freshen up and get a proper drink,” came the next comment from his father. “Make your own damn coffee.”

The older man then marched across the kitchen and, despite all of the space, made sure that he bashed shoulders with Athos on his way out. Athos stood there in shock as he rubbed his shoulder. Then again what had he expected? His father would never change.

“I'm sorry,” he said to Lena who just smiled at him sadly before going back to her baking. Athos wanted to leave but felt guilty for the fact the coffee machine was now making him a drink so he stood there awkwardly until it had finished.

Having no-idea where his father had gone and deciding to just leave him alone for the time-being anyway, Athos downed his hot coffee so fast that he almost burnt his mouth in the process. Then he went off to find Porthos and Aramis. It didn't take him long to find them because they hadn't yet left the library, although they had a visitor.

“Did you study English literature at University?” his mother was asking as he entered the room.

“No, I didn't go to University,” Aramis explained to her as he flicked through the pages of a book.

Porthos noticed Athos come in and smiled at him before mouthing 'okay?' and Athos nodded because what else could he say with his mother in the room?

“You didn't go to University?!” his mother sounded shocked. She had her back to Athos and so far hadn't realised that he had joined them.

“No,” Aramis looked up from the book and then grinned when he saw Athos but politely continued to engage Athos' mother in conversation. “I left school when I was young...actually I didn't even finish school.”

“Good heavens.” she exclaimed. “You poor dear, no wonder you work as a waiter.” She turned then, Aramis' smile had obviously giving her an indication that someone else had come into the room. She quickly spotted Athos. “Our boys both very had good educations which we spent a lot of money on. Not that this one appreciates it.”

Whilst Athos was in no mood for an argument he did feel the need to correct her.

“I do appreciate it. It gave me the chance to escape from home and go to London.”

He knew he was being mean but the comment actually made her smile in amusement for the briefest of moments before the smile promptly disappeared.

“You weren't very long.”

“He wasn't very...talkative,” Athos explained and then walked further into the room and closer to Porthos. “He said he wanted to freshen up. I think we should talk to him later.”

His mother didn't argue at least, she just turned back to Aramis. Her current behaviour was confusing to Athos as she was paying Aramis and Porthos more attention than she had ever given him. Athos wondered if it was just a sign of how lonely she had been feeling.

“Well take as many books as you like, it's never too late in life to educate yourself.”

Aramis politely thanked her but Athos was very relieved when she told them that she had a phone-call to make so she'd leave them all to it. As soon as she left the library, Athos went over to one of the chairs and collapsed down into it. Porthos came over, knelt down on the rug and shuffled between Athos' legs.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I just want to go home,” Athos admitted, feeling overwhelmed by it all. Wondering how he had managed to get himself dragged into the mess that was his parents marriage when he didn't even like either of them very much and had spent most of his adult life avoiding them. Porthos stroked Athos' thighs sympathetically.

“We can if you want to. We can get in the car right now, if that's what you really want? But I think we should stay for just a little longer. If you left right this second I've got a feeling you'd regret it.”

“They should sort it out themselves,” Athos grumbled and really meant it. Aramis came over as well and perched on the arm of the chair. He reached out and stroked Athos' hair affectionately. They were both being so kind and patient with Athos and his screwed-up family, that it made Athos want to cry.

“Yeah they probably should,” Porthos agreed. “Look, let's all take Frodo out for a walk together, get some fresh air, then you can decide what you want to do, okay?”

Athos nodded at the suggestion as getting out of the house sounded like a wonderful idea. It wasn't long before they were all outside in the grounds and the dog was racing around like a lunatic. It was a nice day, the sky was blue and, although the temperature was crisp, the sun shone on their faces.

“Athos,” Aramis began. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” Athos said, digging his hands into the pockets of his coat to search for his gloves.

“How did your bother die?”

Athos glanced across at Aramis to discover that he was watching Frodo, seemingly unable to face Athos as he asked his question. Athos didn't realise that he hadn't told Aramis the story and of course it made sense that Aramis would be curious now they were at the house and pictures of Thomas were all over Athos' bedroom.

“He had been accepted into a University in Paris to do some sort of...sports science but he wanted to take a year out first to travel,” Athos began to explain. “He came to see me in London first because I was in my last year of University at that point, and then he went off exploring the rest of Europe. I got various emails from him with pictures of his adventures; he was snow-boarding, dog-sledding and mountain climbing and having the time of his life. Then, one day, I came back from a lecture to find a few missed calls on my phone, some from my mother and others from my Uncle. So I called my Uncle and he informed me that two hikers had gone missing on a mountain range in Switzerland after a storm had suddenly hit. I honestly wondered why on earth he was telling me at first until I realised...one of the hikers was Thomas.

“They found them both eventually, a couple of days after they went missing. They were both dead. Thomas had clearly slipped and fell and had been dead for a while. The other guy they suspect got disorientated and lost and couldn't find his way back. None of it felt real for a while, I was in a denial for days, telling myself that perhaps they were just confused, maybe Thomas had traveled to another country and no-body had realised. The person they had found could well have been somebody completely different and they had just got it wrong. But, the body was eventually flown back to France and at the funeral...I don't know, it all sunk in. It suddenly hit me that there was no conspiracy theory, no mistake...my little brother really was dead.”

Athos didn't know what else to say. That was the story in a nutshell. The moment his life has come crashing down.

“That's really sad,” Aramis concluded.

“Yes, I would have liked for you to have met him and him to have met the two of you. I know he would have liked you both very much.”

Something touched his glove and Athos glanced down to find that Aramis had reached for his hand. He was about to tell him off and pull his hand away but Aramis was looking forlorn and they were probably far enough away from the house that no-one would even see them. Athos gave Aramis' hand a squeeze in return.

“He'll always be a part of our lives because he was a part of yours,” Porthos said rather philosophically. “And you can talk to us about him whenever you want to.”

Athos turned to Porthos and smiled warmly.

“Thank you.” He had the most perfect boyfriends, he was certain of that and he really enjoyed the rest of the walk, being outside in the fresh air with them both, it was like recharging his batteries. By the time they decided to turn around and go back to the house, Athos felt ready to take on his parents once more.

“Let's stay for a little while longer,” he suggested as they approached the house. He at least wanted to get them in a room together and talking. Once he had done that, he would consider his job to be done.


	49. The Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Without ruining it too much, trigger warnings for homophobia, violence, talk of past child abuse and mental illness. I think that just about covers it!]

Athos let go of Aramis' hand before he knocked on the front door and M. Hubert, looking a little flustered, let them in.

“Sorry,” Athos immediately apologised but Hubert just smiled before hurrying back upstairs. Poor old Hubert. Back when Athos lived in the house there were ladies-maids, footmen, nannies and all sorts of people who worked in the house. Now it just appeared to be Hubert, the cook and, Athos assumed, a few cleaners. Athos did ponder talking to his mother about it. It wasn't kind forcing a man in his 70s to work so hard. His parents were rich, he was quite certain they could afford more staff and he didn't actually understand why they had got rid of them all.

He pushed the door to a close and then turned to discover that Porthos and Aramis were staring at something. He followed their eyes to discover the young man, who had been in his father's car, was now standing in the hallway as if he had been waiting for them. The young man took a tentative step forward, then hesitated, before finally thrusting his hand up in Athos' direction.

“I'm Masson,” the stranger explained. Athos, rather confused, was polite enough at least to take the offered hand and shake it.

“Athos,” he said.

“I know,” Masson responded and smiled but Masson's smile was short-lived as he lowered his arm again.

“This is Porthos and Aramis,” Athos then explained, just in case Masson was wondering. Masson smiled again and nodded at both of them before turning his attention back to Athos.

“I...umm...I hope there are no hard feelings?” the youngster asked.

“About what?” Athos responded curiously. He had no-idea who the guy was although it wasn't unusual for his father to travel around with work colleagues and assistants, Athos was used to there being strange people in the house.

“Umm about...well you know...” Masson appeared to be eyeing Aramis and Porthos up nervously like he hadn't been planning to talk in front of them. Athos narrowed his own eyes, feeling rather perplexed.

“I really don't know what you're talking about.”

“Oh,” Masson sounded surprised. “Oh I thought...oh nevermind...I'll let your father explain I...sorry I thought...sorry.”

Athos wanted to quiz the bumbling youngster further but clearly the lad was uncomfortable so Athos decided on his occasion to be kind and let him off.

“I'll speak to my father then,” he said, although couldn't pull his confused gaze from the young man. Masson's cheeks were starting to flush.

“Yes, sorry,” Masson muttered before turning around and heading down the corridor towards the back of the house leaving them all standing there.

“Oh I didn't realise,” Aramis said from behind a moment later.

“What didn't you realise?” Athos asked, turning back to look at him.

“I thought your father was having an affair with a woman,” Aramis semi-whispered.

“He is,” Athos pointed out abruptly. Because he was....right? Yes his father had definitely asked Athos not to blame 'her' in their brief conversation earlier and explained that she was a widow. So, unless he had been lying...

“Oh then...who's that guy?” Aramis asked innocently.

“I have no-idea,” Athos grumbled, his good mood produced by the walk had now evaporated. “I need to find my father and speak to him. The sooner we can leave this place the better.”

“Alright, love.” Porthos came closer and wrapped his arm around Athos' shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss on the cheek. “Go find him. Sort this all out. Aramis and I will either be in the bedroom or in the library, okay?”

Athos nodded and left them both to go off in search of his father. He unsurprisingly found his father in the first place he looked, the office. It was where his father spent most of his time. The forbidden office which Thomas and Athos were constantly told not to enter as children. Don't disturb your father he's working, don't distract your father he's busy. Athos had no such qualms about disturbing him now. In fact he had every intention to do just that.

His father had changed his clothes, his suit now replaced by a more relaxed shirt and sweater. He was standing beside his desk, flicking through a few papers. He barely even acknowledged Athos' presence when Athos stormed into the room.

“Who is Masson?”

His father briefly glanced up at Athos before carrying the paperwork to the other side of the desk and opening up a filing-cabinet.

“He's my assistant. Good kid. Smart, ambitious, maybe a little green behind the ears but he's getting there.”

“Why did he just want to make sure that there were no 'hard-feelings'?”

Athos' father shrugged as he began filing the papers. “I don't know.”

He did know. There was nothing that his father didn't know. Athos pushed the office door closed and stepped closer to the desk determined not to feel intimidated.

“I could go back and ask him? He'll bumble his way through an explanation eventually I'm sure.”

His father didn't respond, he just continued slipping papers into the filing-cabinet which just wound Athos up. Was Aramis right? Was Masson the person...no, surely not? Still, the thought was now burning in Athos' mind.

“Are you having an affair with him?”

That stopped his father. The man began to laugh as he closed the filing-cabinet and finally turned to Athos.

“Am I having an affair with Masson? No, no. You're the only one who likes doing _that_ in this family.”

That? Athos could feel his blood boil but his father spoke again before he could explode.

“Masson is...he's her son. But that's not why I gave him a job. He really is a good kid and he works hard. I gave him a job because he deserves it and with my own son having no interest in the business...well who else am I going to pass it onto?”

Athos wasn't sure if that made him feel better or not. It didn't matter he supposed, whoever his father was having the affair with, he was still having an affair. Athos also didn't care that his father had found a son replacement, in fact Athos was relieved about that part.

“So you'll be getting a divorce?” Athos asked as there wasn't much point in taking forever to get to the actual point of him being in the house and that was to sort things out between his parents.

His father moved away from the filing cabinet and walked over to the French-doors behind his desk which led to the garden.

“I suppose so.”

“And what about mother?” Athos asked and then privately hated himself for caring about her so much when she had never really cared about him but he wanted to get them to agree to 'something' so he could leave and go home.

“She'll be fine, I won't let her wallow in poverty. She'll get a good deal in the divorce no doubt, we've been married for a long time.”

Which is why it doesn't make sense, Athos thought and found himself expressing that confusion.

“You have which is why I don't....I don't understand. Why now? Why this lady?”

“I don't expect you to understand,” his father grumbled and pulled back the leather office chair and sat himself down on it. Then he turned his laptop on as if that was the end of the conversation.

“What about the house? Are you going to live here? Where will she live?”

“For gods sake, Athos!” His father suddenly slammed the laptop shut and glared up at him. “Why do you care about her? You never have before.”

“Because you don't!” Athos yelled back, raising his voice to match the volume of his father's.

Much to Athos' surprise his father exploded which was his usual response to being yelled at. Instead he just sighed and appeared to look somewhat despondent.

“She can live in the house. Then, when she dies, you'll get it.”

“I don't want it,” Athos pointed out. The house was the last thing he wanted. It was too big, too costly and it held too many sad memories all of which he very recently been reminded of thanks to being forced to come back.

“Then sell it, rent it out, do whatever you like with it. I'm so beyond caring about this damn house, you have no-idea.”

The last sentence Athos could relate to at least.

“I just think...” What did he think? That they should 'try harder'? That they should fix their marriage which had clearly all been a sham since day one?

“I don't care what you think,” came his father's snappy interruption. He then leaned forward in his seat and stared straight up at Athos. “You want the truth about your parents? I married her out of pity. Her family were friends of my family and her good-for-nothing father had lost all of their money as a result of his gambling addiction. They were penniless. No, worst than penniless, they were in serious debt. So her parents knew the only way for her and her brother to continue living their lives in the way they had become accustomed was to marry rich. So I was drafted in and I was told to marry her as a favour to her parents. I never loved your mother, I felt sorry for her. And now, after four decades of her nonsense, I've had enough. She gave me two sons and now one is dead and the other is living with a man and that's on her.”

“What?” Athos was so shocked that he couldn't even yell anymore. “You...you think it's her fault that I'm gay? That Thomas is dead?”

“Yes it is!” His father rose from his seat. “You both left to get away from her and you bugger men now because your own mother has ruined women for you. I saw it during your marriage, there was nothing wrong with Anne, she was wonderful, you just can't cope with women because you had such an unloving, self-centered mother.”

What sort of messed up...Athos was speechless. His father turned around to stare out of the French-doors once again which meant that Athos was now looking at his back silently fuming.

“That's not...” Athos didn't even know how to respond but he knew that he had to say something. “...I can't believe you think that. She wasn't a good mother but she didn't...and you weren't exactly a great father either. You were never even there and, when you were...okay you spent time with Thomas, but you barely spoke to me. You never helped with my anxiety, you made it worse. You made me feel lonely and isolated. I was a child...and you made me grow up believing that I was a freak. Don't act like you were the perfect parent because you were far from that. Even Thomas was scared of your temper.”

Had Athos really just said all that? He had even shocked himself at the words which had just tumbled out of his mouth. A lifetime of hurt summed up in a few short sentences. He waited for his father's reaction and began to feel afraid. There was no-way that his father was just going to take all of that. Athos took a tentative step backwards, waiting for the famous temper to explode.

Only the temper didn't come. His father continued to face the glass.

“Is that true? You felt like a freak?” his father asked.

“Yes,” Athos admitted, as there was no point in taking back his words now, nor did he want to.

“So you turned into one to prove a point?”

“No, I...is that what you think?”

His father finally turned around and he indeed did look angry, the wrinkles on his forehead more prominent as he frowned.

“I saw you in the garden just now holding hands with your boyfriend. You think it's normal to hold hands with another man? Because it made me feel _sick_.”

Tears began to fill Athos' eyes. Sick? It hadn't been Porthos who Athos was holding hands with, it was Aramis, not that Athos' father would even know what Porthos looked like because he had never met him before. But sick? There was nothing sick about holding hands with Aramis, nothing sick about loving either of them. Porthos and Aramis were the kindest, sweetest people Athos had ever known.

“I don't care,” Athos whispered, his voice sounding weak as he struggled to hold back the tears. “I don't care how it made you feel.”

“Well, whilst this house is still mine, I don't want him in it. I told you before that I want nothing to do with all that. You be a homosexual if you want to be, but don't force me to watch my only son acting like that because it breaks my heart.”

Athos chest was beginning to tighten and he began to struggle to find air.

“I...I didn't force...”

“I'm not going to argue about this, Athos, I want him out. I'm not going to talk to you properly until he's gone. I told you before not to bring him here.”

And then, as if that was that, Athos' father sat back down onto his chair and lifted the screen of his laptop once more and Athos, feeling upset, angry and hurt, had a very sudden and strong urge to explain one thing and he decided there and then, as foolish as it perhaps was, that he wasn't going to let fear stop him from saying it.

“Actually both of those men you saw me outside with are my boyfriends, I have two. And we have great threesomes together. In fact just last night...”

His father's head snapped up but Athos wasn't going to stop, not this time.

“...I was sandwiched in the middle of them and was fucking one of them whilst the other one was fucking me...”

Athos' father pushed back his chair and stood up. Athos could see that his father was furious but he wasn't going to stop, not this time. He wasn't no longer child and he wasn't going to be scared of his father anymore.

“...his huge dick was pounding into my arse and I loved every-single-second-of-it.”

He saw the arm moving but didn't have time to get out of the way before a hand slapped him hard across the face. The shock of the pain stopped Athos from talking, his cheek immediately stung from the impact of the open-hand.

“Get out!” His father sneered. “How dare you speak to me like that and how dare you do that underneath my roof. I want them both out and I want you out and don't you ever come back. You will not have this house, you will not have a cent of my money.”

Athos, feeling shaky and queasy, nodded.

“Good,” was the only thing he manged to say but he had no more words. He just wanted to cry. He turned and quickly left the room. Once he was outside in the corridor he almost crashed into Masson who was standing there looking shocked.

“Athos, I...”

Athos didn't want to speak to Masson so he rushed past and headed down the corridor towards the library, desperately hoping that Porthos and Aramis would be there. When he burst into the room, Porthos immediately rose from a chair.

“Athos?”

Athos couldn't speak, he just ran over to Porthos who grabbed him the second their bodies crashed together.

“Athos...” he heard Porthos whisper into his ear. “It's okay, love, I'm here, we're here, it's okay.”

Athos was holding onto his sore cheek and he let tears spill against Porthos' chest, silently sobbing in both anger and dismay.

“What happened?” came the worried voice of Aramis beside him a moment later.

“Let him calm down first,” Porthos suggested and squeezed Athos even tighter. Athos leaned into Porthos' comforting embrace and tried to remember to breathe, the last thing he needed was a panic attack. A soothing hand rubbed his back and Athos closed his eyes. He knew that he had crossed the line, he had purposely said things to get his father to loose his temper but he had been so angry and disgusted by the way his father viewed their relationship. How dare he? His own marriage was falling apart and he thought he had the right to judge theirs? His relationship was Porthos and Aramis was complicated but it was wonderful. Porthos and Aramis were wonderful. Athos felt so angry at his father. He also felt dizzy but he did manage to keep some sort of control over his breathing, his trembles and sobs eventually subsided and the feeling of sickness in his stomach calmed down.

“That's it...” Porthos spoke after what must have been a good few minutes. “...we're going home right now. I'm so sorry I talked you into staying.”

The last thing Athos wanted was for Porthos to feel guilty. He pulled back to look up at him.

“No,” Athos protested. “It's not your fault.”

It was then that Aramis gasped. “Why is your...did he....”

Athos glanced to the side to look at him. He didn't want Aramis to panic.

“It's okay, I'm fine,” he tried to reassure Aramis but Aramis was having none of it.

“Did he hit you?”

Athos quickly shook his head. “No, he...he slapped me but it was my own fault. I was so angry that I was saying things which I knew would wind him up.”

Aramis frowned and then stormed off, right out of the door which Athos had accidentally left open.

“Where is he...”

“Are you alright?” Porthos asked, staring at Athos with a face full of worry and concern.

“Yes, I am, thank you. I was just in shock, I'm okay now.”

Porthos nodded and gradually loosened his grip around Athos. “Then let's get you home. Screw your parents and fuck your dad, I'm not having him touch you again or upset you like that.”

Athos nodded in agreement. He really did want to go now. They could sort out their own messy marriage between the pair of them, Athos wanted no part of it. He let Porthos hold him for a moment longer until barking in the distance drew his attention.

“Where's the dog?” Athos asked, realising that Frodo wasn't with them. Porthos looked around the room confused.

“I don't know, he was here asleep here a...”

The dog hardly ever barked but something had set him off. Athos moved towards the doorway and stepped out into the hall. Not only was Frodo barking somewhere, somebody was screaming as well...Aramis.

“Porthos!” Athos called and then ran towards the sound of the yelling. He eventually discovered the back of Aramis in the corridor and Frodo barking in panic beside him. Further down the corridor stood his father looking furious whilst Masson, who was hiding behind his father, appeared to be terrified of the dog.

“You don't hit people that you love!” Aramis was screaming. “You don't! That's not what you do!”

Jesus. Athos approached Aramis from behind but he didn't want to make him jump or divert Frodo's fury onto himself so he slowed down his pace and approached cautiously.

“You're a bad person! That's why you need to be stopped! That's why I have to tell people what you did!”

Aramis was yelling at the top of his lungs and Frodo was going mad, barking fiercely at the two men who were the focus of Aramis' rage. Athos slowly reached out and placed his hand onto Aramis' back so that Aramis would know that he had come up behind him.

“You don't squeeze so hard that they can't breathe!” Aramis screamed and Athos began to realise that Aramis wasn't yelling at his father at all, Aramis was yelling at Marsac, everything must have blurred in his head.

“Aramis?” Athos tried to stay calm as he attempted to get Aramis' attention. “Turn around.”

“You don't do that to people you love!”

The more Aramis screamed the more Frodo snarled and barked in support.

“Stop it! All of you!” Came a loud voice from behind which made them all jump. Athos turned back and saw his mother. Her raised voice had managed to shock Aramis into silence and Aramis, fists tightly clenched, twisted around as well.

“Your dog can kill him for all I care but I'll not have you getting upset in the process,,” she spoke directly to Aramis and then marched over. She grabbed Athos' arm with one hand and then reached for Aramis' arm with the other.

“Come on, boys, everyone needs to calm down.”

She tugged and Athos, somewhat dazed after the whole chain of events, found himself feeling strangely reassured by his mother's presence and his legs automatically moved to follow her. Aramis appeared to be coming along also with Frodo pottering alongside, now as calm as his master. Porthos was there as well and he also came with them, leaving Athos' father and Masson in the corridor by themselves.

“I'll have some hot chocolate brought up, yes what you all need is a good hot chocolate,” Athos' mother told them as she guided them down the corridor.

The next few minutes were a bit of a blur but Athos eventually found himself sitting in a dining-room chair with Aramis and Porthos close-by and they were eventually all handed steaming hot chocolates. His mother pulled up a fourth chair and sat with them.

“What happened?” she then asked. Athos didn't even know what to say.

“Aramis has...post traumatic stress disorder,” Porthos said, coming up with a better explanation than Athos would have managed. “And knowing that your husband hit Athos set him off.”

She turned to Athos somewhat stunned.

“He hit you?”

“Slapped me,” Athos corrected, although he wasn't entirely sure why he was playing it down to protect the man who had done it.

“Has he hit you before?”

“No, I...” Athos shook his head. “I was winding him up. He said some things which made me angry.”

“How dare he hit you.”

Athos knew that she was right. Hadn't he been saying the same thing to Aramis over these past few weeks? No-one deserved to be hit, regardless of what they had done. Thinking about Aramis made Athos turn to look at him. Aramis was blowing on his hot chocolate, his hands were shaking a little. He was also staring down at the floor with a blank expression on his face. Athos knew that they needed to get him home as soon as possible.

“You should all go back to Paris,” Athos' mother suggested as if she was reading her son's thoughts. “I spoke to my brother, I'm going to pack up a few cases and go stay with him and his family for a while.”

That was a sudden change in plan and Athos wasn't sure where it had come from.

“What about this house?” he asked. She loved the house. She had been terrified of leaving the house before.

“Well...it is only stone and bricks,” she commented but looked around the room, her eyes displaying the heartbreak which her words were trying to mask.

“You'll get a good settlement in the divorce,” Athos pointed out, using some of the words his father had spoken earlier. “You'll be okay.”

She snorted. “I loved him you know. You may not believe me...but I always did.”

Athos actually did believe her. He may have married her out of pity but he was her saviour and, despite all of the affairs, she had stuck by him. She must have loved him in her own way. She had certainly been far more forgiving than Athos would have been.

“You may still get the house,” he tried to reassure her. “Just wait and see.”

She nodded before her attention turned back to Aramis. She leaned forward and patted his knee.

“Are you alright, darling? Don't let my nasty soon-to-be ex-husband upset you.”

Aramis nodded but his eyes were still focused on the floor.

“And thank you for trying to protect my son. It's something I do a rather terrible job of myself.” She sighed with sadness before standing up. “You should all go and pack. I'll ask Hubert to help.”

She left and they all sat there taking their time drinking their hot chocolates until Aramis seemed to come out of whatever place his mind had gone to.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered.

“Sorry?” Porthos immediately said. “You have nothing to be sorry for him. I wanted to bloody scream at Athos' dad as well.”

Aramis gave a little nod.

“I'll go and pack our bags quickly,” Porthos offered. “I'm taking you both home.”

Porthos promptly disappeared from the room and Athos left him to it. Porthos was in protective-mode which meant getting them all out of the house as soon as possible. Once Porthos had gone the room fell silent. Athos turned to Aramis.

“Are you really okay?”

Aramis nodded and, with blood-shot eyes, looked up at Athos.

“Yes, are you?”

Athos smiled, trying to convince Aramis that he was. “I am. It was just a row with my father, not exactly uncommon. I'm afraid this is how my family is and it's why I don't tend to have much to do with them.”

Aramis sighed. “My Mum used to yell a lot as well but not at me. She was...sick. She used to think that demons were chasing us. She'd grab me and hold me tightly to protect me whilst she screamed at the wall or the ceiling or sometimes the front door. I think she saw something there. She hardly ever slept, she was always too scared of the demons getting us in  our sleep. She would crawl into my bed sometimes because she didn't want the demons to hurt me.”

Athos reached out squeezed Aramis' hand. Aramis had never spoken about his mother properly before and now he was finally opening up. Athos felt his own heart pounding in his chest as he stayed quiet and just listened.

“...that's why we had to go to mass twice a week. She said we had to, otherwise the demons would get us. That's why she told me to do whatever the Priests wanted because the Priest would protect us from the demons. The first Priest we had was nice and prayed a lot with my mother and came round to visit but Father Vincent he...he knew my mother was sick but he didn't help her. He just told her that she was right, that going to church would get the bad stuff out of us so the demons wouldn't be-able to get us. He said he'd let me be an alter boy because that would help and I wanted to help, I wanted my Mum to stop being afraid all of the time. But then, when he took me in the back-room...I didn't even understand what he was doing. He said all of these things about how I needed to obey him because that would please God.”

Aramis paused to bite down onto his bottom lip which was trembling but Athos didn't want him to stop talking. As much as it broke his heart to hear it, Aramis was finally telling someone, after all of these years he was finally talking about it.

“What happened?” Athos whispered calmly, trying to encourage Aramis to continue.

“I did it, to help my Mum, I did whatever Father Vincent wanted. But then he took me to that place...with those other men that he told me to be a good boy because it would help the church and that was a good thing to do. The two men...I...I tried to be good but I was so scared. I threw up on the carpet once which made the American get mad. Then one day, when my Mum was so terrified that we had to hide in the closest to get away from the demons, I told her what I had done. I told her what I had let Father Vincent and the men do so that God would be pleased and we'd be protected. But she just...she became afraid of me. She told me that I was a demon now because I had let the men do those things to me. She started screaming at me like she screamed at the demons so...I had to leave. I had to run away. I didn't want to leave but she was scared of me.”

Aramis stopped talking and lowered his head. His hand dropped the empty mug to the rug and he immediately placed both his hands over his face. Now it was Aramis' turn to cry and Athos wanted him to cry as much as he needed to. Athos dragged his chair closer and wrapped his arms around Aramis the best he could, holding him tightly.

“I'm so sorry,” was all Athos could think of to say.

“It's okay,” Aramis whispered through his fingers. Then he pulled his hands down and sniffed loudly. “Because you and Porthos are so kind to me. Kinder than anyone has ever been before. Marsac was nice but...you're nice in a different way, a better way. You ask me what I want to do and how I feel. You want to protect me and make sure that I'm happy. I've never had...it's...” Aramis tear-filled eyes stared at Athos. “I felt so much hatred towards your dad. Porthos told me that when you care about someone, you want to keep them safe and protect them and I wanted to protect you so I got so angry when I found out he had hit you and then it reminded me of...”

Aramis' voice trailed off but he didn't need to finish his sentence because Athos knew what he was trying to say.

“Marsac,” Athos finished for him. “You do remember it, don't you? You remember him strangling you?”

Aramis nodded sadly. Athos sighed, he had suspected that Aramis did actually remember after Aramis' nightmare and the time when he had touched his neck in the lawyer's office but it was the first time that Aramis had admitted it.

“I'm sorry that your mother was sick. I'm sorry that her sickness meant that she didn't help you and protect you like she should have done. I can't change your past, Aramis, I wish I could but I can't. But I can help you start all over again with a new life. One where you're in control and you decide what you do and don't want to do and one where we all protect each other.”

Aramis nodded frantically. “I'd like that.”

“And all this...” Athos looked around the grand dining-table. “...this doesn't have to be me either. I can take Thomas with me where-ever I go but I don't have to take the rest of it with me as well.”

“That's right! And now you know everything,” Aramis explained in a whisper like it was a secret. “You know everything about me. I know all about your family and now you know all about mine.”

Athos somehow managed a smile. He felt selfishly relieved that there wasn't going to be any further heartbreaking revelations from Aramis because he wasn't sure how much more he could take. So they knew everything now, it was a start. Athos knew full-well that it was going to be a long journey helping Aramis heal from it all, but at least the journey had begun.

Athos reached out and hugged Aramis again and continued to hold him until Porthos appeared not long after and then Hubert did the same. Hubert helped them take their bags to the car and they were loading it up and getting Frodo into the back when Masson ran out of the house and came over. Athos didn't want to speak to Masson but he couldn't exactly ignore the kid as the young lad made a bee-line for him, only pausing for a moment when he noticed the dog but he promptly appeared to conquer his fear and came up to Athos. Athos, on the other hand, was starting to really like Frodo.

“Athos, I...”

“You don't have to say anything,” Athos responded. He didn't actually blame Masson for any of it, it wasn't Masson's fault that their parents were having an affair with each other.

“I know but I just...” Masson sighed. “...actually I don't know what I want to say I just don't...well it's just...”

The lad was infuriating with his bumbling.

“What?” Athos snapped. He didn't meant to be impatient but he just wanted to leave and Masson was currently stopping him from doing so.

“Well...” Masson suddenly stood up straighter as if trying to find the courage from somewhere. It was then Athos realised that the younger man towered over him. “...my mother isn't perfect but I don't want you to think badly of her. You should meet her sometime, she wants to meet you although I know that might be strange for you but the offer is there. And as for me I...well...your father offered me the job and it was too good to turn down but I want you to know that I don't think the same way he does about your sexuality and he shouldn't have said any of those things to you. I just wanted you to know that I think that.”

Athos stood there in shock for a moment and stared at his unexpected allay. The poor kid had been dragged into his family without even knowing what he was letting himself in for and now he was standing outside in the drive-way of the house being kind to Athos when he didn't have to be. Athos considered the action rather courageous considering his father was probably watching from one of the many windows.

“Masson,” Athos said and stepped froward to the lad. “If you can stand working with my father for another few years, you should do it. I don't want the company so it's yours if you do.”

That seemed to reassure Masson somewhat and he smiled a little.

“I just don't want you think that I'm stepping in and taking over...”

“As you might have gathered by now...” Athos began to explain. “...my father and I do not have a good relationship. You're not stepping on any toes I assure you. I honestly wish you all the best. I think you're crazy to want to work for him but it's your choice and your life.”

Masson looked even more relieved and Athos...Athos felt appeased as well. He thought Masson was mad but, if his father was going to replace him with another 'son', at least Masson appeared to be half-decent judging by first-impressions.

“Okay, I'll...I'll let you go.”

Athos nodded his thanks and was grateful once they were all in the car. Aramis sat in the back with Frodo, Athos sat up front with Porthos driving.

“I'm really sorry,” was the first thing Porthos said once he drove down the driveway.

“What for?” Athos asked, not understanding what Porthos would possibly have to apologise for.

“I talked you into staying. If I hadn't done that...”

“It was my decision and I'm actually glad we stayed,” Athos explained honestly. “It reminded my why I need to stay away from my father and I got to see a different side to my mother. I met Masson and Aramis was able to learn more about my past and also open up to me more about his own, which was incredibly brave of him.” Athos said the last part knowing that Aramis would hear in the back. “None of that would have happened if I hadn't stayed. I am, however, very glad to be going home right now.”

Porthos smiled and reached out to give Athos' hand a squeeze. “I'm glad we're going home as well.”


	50. The Horny Aramis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [This chapter contains VERY mature content at the end! So skip if it's not your thing, enjoy if it is ;)]

Athos got stuck into work the following day because work had always been a good distraction for him although, when work involved putting Aramis' pimp behind bars and searching for the men that had abused Aramis as a child, it wasn't a terribly successful distraction.

It also took Athos a while to get hold of the Anne during the week which he found increasingly frustrating. She eventually phoned back Tuesday lunch-time whilst Athos was at his desk still trying to piece together the financial records of Father Vincent's old Saint-Jacques-du-Haut-Pas church. Although, just as Porthos had already pointed out, there wasn't anything suspicious about the money coming into the church apart from the large gifts given by Hector Lovitt's construction company. Porthos himself had gone back to the church to try and 'assist' them in finding the records from the missing two years, the Bishop had made some phone-calls on their behalf and now there was a team down at the church who had offered to help search.

Athos, however, was quickly distracted by all thoughts of missing financial records by the sound of Anne's voice over the phone.

“Sorry, Sergeant,” she apologised. “I've been busy.”

“Don't worry. What do you think about Aramis?” Athos asked, wondering if Anne had any inclination about the amount of courage it had taken for Aramis to sit in her office and tell her his rather tragic story.

“He said a lot more than I thought he would,” she admitted. “But I do need to talk to him again and I really think he would benefit from some practice questions because he was clearly very nervous.”

“I agree,” Athos concurred. The more they could help Aramis prepare for his day in court the better. “I suppose we should do that soon with the trial just being a month away?”

“Yes,” Anne agreed. “Can I have his contact details? It might be better if he comes the next time without the two of you being there...”

Athos was about to protest. Aramis would absolutely want them there but then Anne added...

“...being detectives like you are and everything. He might relax more without you both in the room.”

If only she knew, Athos thought. But Athos was also very aware that they had to keep pretending that they weren't in a relationship with Aramis and he couldn't think of a valid reason for them to be in the room.

“Alright,” Athos said with some reluctance but he didn't want Anne to have direct contact with Aramis so he decided to lie a little bit. “But I can't give you his details. He asked me not to give them to anyone. But I can arrange the meeting then he can attend by himself.”

She seemed to accept the offer and then Athos decided to bring up the subject which had been causing him slight anxiety since their meeting.

“Did you catch Aramis mentioning that Marsac used him to recruit other rent-boys? Could that cause us problems if the defense lawyer picks it up? I don't want Aramis to get into trouble.”

“Trouble?” Anne repeated. “He won't get into trouble. I assumed that they were already working as rent boys and Aramis just suggested that they work for Marsac, probably because Aramis genuinely believed that working for Marsac would be better for them. I doubt Aramis was making any money from recruiting them and, if that is the case, then I don't think what he did would be considered illegal and, anyway, you're the police, Aramis getting into trouble would involve you arresting him and I assume you won't be doing that?”

She had a point. Sometimes Athos forgot that he was a Detective Sergeant now and that position actually held some power. The power to arrest and the power to protect. Aramis was going to be okay with two cops as boyfriends.

“And he could have been under eighteen at the time,” Athos pointed out. Considering Aramis appeared to meet Marsac when he was sixteen or seventeen, it was possible.

“To be honest I'm more worried about Aramis freezing on me in court or changing his mind and not even showing up,” Anne admitted.

“I know.” 

Athos was concerned about the same thing. Aramis had gone from being adamant about not testifying to now wanting to do it, he could easily change his mind back again. 

“But we're short on options,” Athos continued. “I'll send you the details of Alexei who is staying with a family in Paris and trying to come off heroin. He said he'd testify but...” Athos paused. “...it still feels like we don't have much of a strong case.”

“I wouldn't say that,” Anne pointed out. “I've got some good evidence from Vice and, if Aramis will at least talk about the assault, that's two charges I'm pretty certain we'll get a conviction for. I know it's not as much as we were hoping for, but it's something.”

It was something. All Athos wanted was for Marsac to be off the streets for a while; locked away where he wouldn't keep making money form heroin-addicted prostitutes and, just as importantly, he wouldn't have access to Aramis.

“I'll talk to Aramis and get back to you,” Athos promised. After he hung up the phone Athos glanced at the clock, wondering how Aramis' one-to-one session with Ninon had gone that morning. Had Aramis talked about the weekend? Athos hoped that he had, he wanted Aramis to talk to someone about it all.

Curiosity eventually got the better of him and, when he finally gave up with the financial records deciding that there was nothing more to learn from them, he made his way to the floor where Ninon had her office. Assuming that she was with someone because her door was closed, he sat on the chairs out in the corridor and waited patiently. Then, after fifteen minutes of waiting, it began to dawn on him she probably had another client booked-in straight after her current one and, feeling like an idiot, he stood to leave just as the door was opening. Ninon let Officer Boyer leave and Athos immediately tried to act like he was just passing through but Ninon spotted him.

“Athos?”

He was tempted to ignore her and just walk away but the embarrassing truth was that her office was at the end of the corridor so no-one 'just passed through'. Realising that he would look like a weirdo now if he just continued walking he felt forced to stop and turn back to her.

“Sorry, I...I wasn't thinking...you're probably busy....”

“I have a few minutes,” she pointed out and opened the door wider. “Come on in.”

So Athos did. He walked into the very familiar room and stood there looking at her purple plants, which always appeared to be thriving, as she closed the door.

“Is everything alright?” Ninon asked as she walked past Athos and sat down in her usual chair.

“Yes,” Athos responded, suddenly feeling extraordinarily embarrassed and stupid for coming to see her without an appointment. “I just wanted to ask how you thought Aramis was doing?”

She gestured towards one of the spare seats so Athos obliged by sitting himself down.

“You know I can't talk to you about what happens in my private sessions with Aramis.”

“I know,” Athos adjusted the cushion behind his back until it was more comfortable. “We just had a difficult weekend and I wanted to make sure that he's alright.”

“Well you're the one who lives with him,” Ninon pointed out with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yes but...I suspect he talks to you about things which he finds more difficult talking to me about. Although he did open up to me at the weekend but...” But what? What did Athos want to know? If Aramis was coping, if they had messed him up even more...

“Athos, I've given a time to Aramis for our next meeting together with all three of us. Can what's on your mind wait until then?”

“Yes, I suppose so. I just wanted to see if you thought he was doing okay?”

“I don't think you need to worry,” Ninon said and Athos thought that was probably that. In fact Ninon even moved to get up but then appeared to change her mind and sat back down in her seat. “Aramis is...it's going to take time. He has developed various defense mechanisms to cope with everything he has been through. Whilst your OCD gives you a sense of control in your life which you lacked as a child, Aramis...well he has his own coping strategies and it's going to take time to get him to understand that and to properly start dealing with things, so we all need to be patient with him. Generally he really does seem to be doing remarkably well considering the huge life changes he's currently going through. He has a safe home, he's in a relationship, he has a normal job, these are all things he has never experienced before.”

Athos nodded. He really appreciated her honesty she knew that she was right, it was going to take time.

“He had a bit of a melt-down at the weekend,” Athos explained.

“I'm aware, he did mention it. Although he was far more concerned about you when he told me what happened at the weekend. Athos, I have another client coming in a minute but would you like to talk to me alone at some point? We could book a session in.”

“No,” Athos said almost immediately. It was Aramis he was concerned about, not himself. “No it's fine...thank you. I just wanted to make sure that Aramis was okay.”

“Why don't you ask him? Or, if you'd rather, we can all talk about it together on Thursday.”

She smiled warmly at Athos as she stood up and led Athos to the door. Ask him...she made it sound so easy. 

By the time Athos got back to his desk after pondering how to talk to Aramis that evening, Porthos had returned with a brown bag from the coffee shop across the road.

“Knowing you and the fact that you've probably forgotten to eat today, I've brought you some lunch,” he pointed out and Athos was grateful because he had indeed forgotten to eat. It was a very good thing that he had Porthos looking out for him.

“Any luck?” Athos asked as sat down and opened the brown paper bag to have a look inside. There was coffee, fruit and a ham baguette which excited Athos the most because, with Aramis being a vegetarian, there was a serious lack of meat at home.

“Nah, the financial records for those two lost years are properly gone. I am wondering if somebody purposely destroyed them, Vincent maybe, covering stuff up. But something very interesting did happen.”

Porthos grabbed his chair and pulled it around the desks so that he was sitting close to Athos. 

“Met this old lady at the church who was doing the flowers and got chatting to her,” Porthos began to explain. “She has been going to that church for nearly forty years. She got a bit funny when I mentioned Father Vincent but then her friend came along and, between the two of them, they started talking and then wouldn't stop. Said Vincent seemed really holy at first but then they knew something was off with him. Anyway, I asked if they knew any of the boys...the older boys who may have been abused long before Father Vincent was arrested thinking that maybe we could get some more names to help build our case against Hector Lovitt. They struggled for a bit to remember any of the boys so I mentioned Aramis...well Rene. They knew him and his Spanish mother. They reckon that Aramis' mother is in a psychiatric hospital now.”

Athos wasn't overly surprised at the news considering Aramis' mother had spent her time screaming at imaginary demons. 

“You mustn't tell Aramis that,” Athos immediately said. “He has enough to deal with right now.”

Porthos nodded his agreement. “I wasn't gonna but, anyway, I asked about Aramis' father to see if they knew who he was considering they seemed to know everything about everyone.”

Athos wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to know. Porthos' keenness to find Aramis' father only smelt like trouble was far as Athos was concerned but then Porthos never knew his own father and Athos suspected that had a part to play in Porthos' determination to discover more about Aramis' family.

“And?” Athos asked as he knew Porthos was going to tell him anyway.

“His name is Raphael d'Herblay. Aramis' parents married young, his mother came with her family from Spain but Raphael was a local lad. Then Aramis...or Rene was born quickly after the wedding...a little too quickly according to the old ladies which might explain the fast wedding. But then...well it sounds like Aramis' mother started going crazy and his father couldn't take it anymore. They said he seemed to just take off and no-one ever saw him again.”

“So he didn't die then?” 

“Well no, not unless Aramis' mother killed him and buried him in the garden.”

Athos flinched in horror at the thought. “Porthos, don't even joke about that...”

“Who said I was joking?”

Athos' phone started ringing on the table. He didn't really want to answer it but it was his work phone so he knew that he had to. “Hold on.”

He picked up the phone.

“It's...it's Pauline,” came a small, hesitant voice on the other hand.” You probably don't remember me. You came to see my fiancé in hospital. He was attacked but he didn't want to speak to you.”

“I remember,” Athos said because he certainly did, they'd only been at the hospital the previous week.

“I was wondering if you could come round? He's willing to talk to you now. I'm sorry about before.”

Pierre wanted to talk? That was a bit of a surprise considering the reception they had received from him at the hospital.

“Yes we will. Are you still at the hospital?”

“No, no he was discharged. We're at home.”

“Tell me your address and we'll be right over.”

They jumped into the car and got to the address as soon as they could. It was a large town-house, clearly quite expensive and they were greeted at the door by a very immaculately dressed but nervous looking Pauline.

“Come in. Thank you for coming over so fast.”

Athos didn't feel overly keen to come face-to-face with Pierre once more after the man's rudeness the previous time but he was still a victim and there was still a crime to solve. Alexei had been very adamant that they had only mugged two victims so, unless Hugo had beaten up Pierre on his own, this case wasn't connected. The fact that Pierre had been found unconscious outside a brothel seemingly managed by Nashiko, made the case even more interesting as far as Athos was concerned.

“What made him change his mind?” Athos asked as they were guided down the corridor.

“He told me the truth about what happened and I convinced him to talk to you. I'm sorry about before he...well you'll know why he didn't want to say anything when he tells you.”

She was refusing to look at them so Athos didn't question her any further. They were led into a large living-room with flower patterned sofas where a still bruised Pierre was sitting with a blanket covering his legs.

“Detectives,” he greeted them with a nod.

“Can I get you anything?” Pauline asked to which Athos declined for them both. He was curious now to find out what Pierre had to say and just wanted to get on with it. They both sat down and Pierre looked over at them.

“I'm sorry about...before...at the hospital.”

Porthos was more forgiving than Athos. “You've been through something tough, it's fine. Do you wanna tell us what happened now?”

Pierre glanced up at Pauline who was pouring herself a glass of wine before she sat down on the same sofa as Pierre, curled her legs up and smiled encouraging at him. They clearly loved each other, Athos could tell by the way that they looked at one another.

“I was being blackmailed,” came the sudden explanation from Pierre. “They wanted fifty thousand euros or they threatened to tell everyone at our wedding about Pauline's past.”

That wasn't quite the explanation that Athos had been expecting but he tried to remain calm as he asked, “Who was blackmailing you?”

“People at the brothel,” Pierre explained. “I don't know who and I'm afraid I burnt the letter.”

“You might have to explain this from the start, mate,” Porthos requested.

“I received a letter in the post telling me that my wife-to-be was a whore and that, unless I brought fifty thousand euros to a particular address on a particular day, then my wedding guests would all be informed of her past history as a stripper and a prostitute.”

He said it very matter-of-factly that Athos was left rather in shock. Was that true about Pauline? She looked so delicate and sweet. Then again, so at times did Aramis. Pauline, on the other hand, was blushing bright red and lowering her face so that they wouldn't see her embarrassment. But Pierre reached across and put a hand on her arm.

“I didn't tell Pauline because I didn't want her to know.”

“So it's true is it?” Porthos asked calmly.

Pauline gave a bit of a shy nod.

“Yes,” Pierre responded for her. “And I didn't know before but, after the initial shock, I realised that it didn't matter to me. I love her very much. We all have a past.”

“So what did you do?” Porthos asked.

“Well I went but I didn't take any money with me,” Pierre explained. “I was going to confront them and tell them that I didn't care and that they weren't getting a cent. I was...stupid, I know I was. I was an idiot for thinking I could just turn up and have a go at them and they'd let me go.”

“They didn't?” Athos didn't really need to ask the question as the answer was obviously but he wanted Pierre to keep talking.

“No,” Pierre concurred. “The lady who seemingly ran the place she...well she got angry. She claimed not to know anything about it. Told me to either pay for a service or leave.”

“The madame of the brothel?” Athos asked.

“Yes I suppose so,” Pierre nodded. “Then this...large guy came out of no-where and grabbed me. I tried to fight him off and that's when...well I don't know. He beat me up I suppose. It all got out-of-hand.”

Athos looked across at Pauline.

“Do you know who was behind the blackmailing?”

Pauline shrugged a little, her body still as curled up as it could be. “Probably.”

“Would you care to enlighten us?”

She finally looked up to turn to Pierre but her finance didn't say anything. He just smiled warmly at her and ran his hand down her arm until they locked fingers. 

“...the two pimps who own the brothels, it was probably them.”

“Marsac?” Athos asked which immediately made Pauline's gaze shoot across in surprise.

“You know him?”

Athos nodded. “We arrested him. He's in jail awaiting trial, so I doubt he was behind the blackmailing unless he was doing it from behind bars.”

She suddenly changed her demeanour, swinging her legs off the sofa she sat bolt upright. “He's in jail? Marsac?”

Athos nodded again as did Porthos beside him. She looked between the pair of them for a while, clearly flabbergasted by the news. Then a relived sigh escaped her lips and she placed her spare hand on her heaving chest.

“Oh thank god. What about Gilles?”

“I'm afraid we initially arrested Gilles as well but we had to concentrate on Marsac at the time, so Gilles was released.”

Her body language changed again, her shoulders slumped in disappointment.

“That's a shame because I swear Gilles ran the places more than Marsac did.”

“Go on,” Porthos encouraged.

“Go on with what?”

“So, Marsac owned the brothels but Gilles ran them?”

“Pretty much. I mean I can't say much for sure. I wasn't there for very long.”

“Everything you tell us about this is off the record right now,” Athos promised as anything she told them which could potentially help would be useful. Pierre seemed to encourage her with a supportive nod.

“Alright,” she paused for a while but they all waited patiently so she could work out her thoughts. “I only worked in one of their brothels for a couple of years so I don't know much about them. Back when...well...I started working as a stripper whilst I was at college to get me through my studies because my parents didn't have any money and I was desperate to finish my course. I thought it would open up the entire world to me and life just felt great. But...I was stupid. I stayed behind at too many of the 'after-show' parties and started snorting coke.

Then, before I knew it...everything fell apart. I was kicked out of college for drug-taking and I lost my home in the student digs. I was too ashamed to tell my parents so I did some couch-surfing for a while then...well to cut a long and very pathetic story short, I ended up on the streets with an out of control drug habit. Whilst I was standing on the streets one night with a bunch of other girls Gilles approached us, eyed us all up, said he was auditioning girls to work in his brothels. Most of the women told him to piss off but I was curious because I hated working the streets, it was cold and a lot of the men thought nothing of bashing us around a bit. I thought I might be safer in a brothel. So I auditioned and...passed I guess.

Anyway, I worked in a brothel where the madame was surprisingly sweet. Again to cut another long story short, she actually helped me get off the drugs and helped me get out of the brothel. I sorted myself out and I haven't looked back since.”

“Who was the madame?” Athos asked, wondering if Nashiko was even around in those days, not that Nashiko seemed to type to want to help any of the girls.

“Sophia was her name. I always wonder what happened to her and the other girls I worked with.”

“Was it just women at your brothel?”

Pauline shook her head. “No there were men as well...well boys really, most of them were only teenagers. It was Gilles who came around most of the time and acted like the lord of the manner. It was hilarious really, he had such a baby-face; he looked like a fifteen year old playing at big-boy games. I don't think either of them really knew what they were doing, Sophia always said that. Anyway...I thought I put that all behind me. A dark chapter of my life. I'm a very different person now.”

“And I'm very proud of you for the person you've become,” Pierre told her which caused Pauline to smile.

She looked apologetic as she responded, “I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry they tried to blackmail you and hurt you.”

“How did they know you were marrying Pierre?” Porthos asked.

“I don't know. I have no-idea. I haven't kept in contact with any of them, not even Sophia. Maybe someone saw me with him. Maybe they followed us home. We did put an engagement announcement in the newspaper a few months ago so perhaps it was that. I really don't know.”

Athos believed her. He believed both of them as they seemed very genuine and their story was more than plausible. 

“Pauline, is there anything else you can tell us about Marsac? His court case is in a month, we're still trying to find more evidence. You said Sophia commented on how neither of them knew what they were doing. Do you know how Marsac got the money to rent out all of the buildings for the brothels in the first place?”

Pauline appeared to think about it but shook her head. “No, I have no-idea. No wait I...” She closed her eyes as if she was thinking extra hard. "...I remember Sophia making some comment about how, if she had their money, she would have brought a vineyard in the Loire Valley and not opened up brothels. I'm sorry, I really don't know where they got the money from."

Athos knew full well that there was something he had to ask. “I don't suppose you'd be willing to stand up in court and testify against Marsac would you? The more people we have giving evidence the better.”

She didn't seem to like the suggestion and neither did her fiancé.

“No, no. I won't have her doing anything that might put her into danger.”

Athos felt disappointed but he also understood. “Are you sure? Marsac being behind bars is the best thing for a lot of people.”

“I'm sorry, Detective,” Pierre said, once again speaking on Pauline's behalf. “She just told you everything she knows which can't have been easy for her. I think that's enough now.”

Athos knew not to push it. Still, it had been worth asking. 

“Would you like us to investigate who blackmailed you and then assaulted you? It sounds like Gilles might have been involved.”

“No, I just...I was stupid. I should never have gone there alone. Hopefully now they know they won't be getting any money off us they'll leave us alone now. I don't want to press any charges. I just...Pauline suggested that we tell the police the truth but I want to leave it now. We just want to get on with planning our wedding and looking to our future.”

“Well that's your decision. Is there anything else you can tell us about Marsac or Gilles, Pauline? Anything at all?”

Pauline paused to think.

“No, no, I don't think so. I'm sorry. I barely saw Marsac because he wasn't into women so he didn't really bother us. He had a favourite anyway, this young guy called Aramis. I don't think Marsac slept with anyone else. Gilles slept with everyone but I don't think he ever told me anything which you'd find interesting. I could give an anonymous statement if you like?”

Athos thought about it for a moment, he wasn't sure if it would help or not.

“I'll talk to the lawyer, see what she says. Thank you for the offer.”

They said their goodbyes and headed out.

“You starting to get the feeling that we fucked-up?” Porthos asked as they headed towards their car.

“What do you mean?” Athos asked.

“We were so busy focusing on Marsac that we let Gilles get away. Now it sounds like Gilles, Marsac's right-hand man, has just re-opened the brothels and nothing has changed. So who have we really helped?”

“Aramis,” Athos pointed out. “And Alexei.”

“Yeah but I wish we could have done more.”

“Well, like Nashiko said, you get rid of one and they just get replaced. It never ends. But that doesn't mean we should stop trying.”

They went back to the station and spent some time writing up Pierre's case in order to close it by his request. They were just turning off their computers to go home when Treville came over, seemingly pleased to see them both.

“It's good to see you at your desks working again. How are your cases coming along?”

Knowing that they needed to keep Treville on-side Athos spent some time filling him in.

“The historic child abuse case is going slowly but we've all but solved the three assaults although, unfortunately, our prime suspect for two of them is still missing but I have a feeling he'll turn up at some point.”

Treville, with his hands on his hips, at least looked more pleased than disappointed.

“Well at least things are ticking along. And what about the house-move? When was it again?”

“This weekend,” Porthos explained with a smile. “We'll need a couple of days off but then things will be back to normal again.”

“Well, like I told you, take as much time off as you need. Although, Athos, spend more time with d'Artagnan would you? He's a good lad but he could do with some fine-tuning. He'd benefit from some mentoring.”

Athos nodded his promise. If it hadn't been for Aramis then Athos would have spent a lot more time with d'Artagnan and he felt bad for almost ignoring their new team member over the past few weeks.

“I'll track him down tomorrow and spend some time with him,” Athos promised.

That seemed to satisfy Treville who headed off into his office which allowed Athos and Porthos to head back home.

Their house was empty apart when they got back apart from the dog, which indicated that Aramis had gone to the restaurant by himself for the first time. Athos and Porthos ate dinner together and then cuddled up on the sofa-bed until Aramis came home late seemingly happy and pleased to see them still up, as if there was any doubt, neither of them could ever really settled until Aramis was home. 

As soon as Aramis had sorted out his shoes in the hallway, a habit Aramis now had which Athos was grateful for, he came racing in and jumped onto the sofa-bed with them, clambering into the middle and cuddling up to Porthos.

“How did it go?” Porthos asked, wrapping his arm around Aramis.

“Good.”

It was like trying to get information out of a teenager, Athos mused. 

“Where did you get the tie from?” Porthos asked, pulling at the black tie Aramis was wearing with his white shirt.

“Roberto gave it to me. He works in the kitchen but everyone shares the tips so he was trying to help.”

“Help?”

“I get a lot of tips so they all like me,” Aramis explained which made Athos chuckle but Porthos didn't look as amused and immediately frowned.

“Why? What do you do to get lots of tips?”

“Nothing!” Aramis insisted, immediately lifted his head up as if sensing he'd have to defend himself. “I just smile and I'm polite like they told me to be! Tara says it's because I'm handsome. Whenever elderly ladies come in, she gets me to work on those tables. They tend to give me big tips.”

The mention of Aramis' fans being mostly old ladies appeared to qualm Porthos' jealousy and he rested his head back on the bed again.

“Oh okay,” he grumbled which caused Athos to smile to himself. Porthos was adorable when he was jealous. “And what did you do during the day?”

“I went to the library,” Aramis explained and then began to wiggle about to get up. “Actually there's something I need to ask you...”

Aramis was soon kneeling between them both, facing them and blocking the view of the TV. But, as Aramis was a nicer view than whatever was on TV, Athos didn't mind. Aramis took in a deep breath before he spoke causing Athos' stomach to flip just a little bit from worry about what was about to be announced.

“The people down at the library...well they were asking me questions today about what I do for work and things. So I told them that I work in a restaurant three evenings a week. Then they asked me what I did during the day so I said that I didn't do much, that I just mostly take my dog for walks and sometimes go down the day-care centre to help out. Then they asked me if I'd like to help them there sometimes...as a volunteer, which means I wouldn't get paid. But they said they needed someone young to help them carry new books in from the vans, move bookcases and that sort of thing.”

Athos began to relax. The announcement wasn't stressful after all, in fact it was rather lovely.

“Aww,” Porthos immediately said. “Do you want to? Reckon you'd love that.”

“Yes,” Aramis responded, his keenness clear but he also appeared torn. “But they won't pay me and I want to work so I can...”

“Stop right there,” Porthos interrupted. “Aramis, at the moment, lets just get you out there doing things, meeting people and building your confidence, alright? Stop worrying about giving us money. Anyway you work a good fifteen hours a week at the restaurant, that's more than enough for the moment. God you still don't even have a bloody bank account or a passport and we need to sort out your tax and all sorts of stuff before you start giving work any proper thought anyway.”

Aramis didn't say anything at first but then he nodded and smiled. “Alright, I'll say I can then, if that's okay?”

It took Athos a moment to realise that Aramis was looking at him, waiting for an answer.

“Aramis, I think it'll do you some good having things to do during the day. It will stop you from getting bored and, considering your love of books, I can't imagine a better place for you to spend your time than a library.”

A library full of nice, quiet, calm people who won't try to sleep with you, Athos privately thought.

Aramis was grinning from ear-to-ear, clearly it was the answer he had wanted. He began to slowly pull at his tie until it came loose. Then he bit onto his bottom lip and began to pop open the buttons of his shirt. He was doing a strip-tease for them.

“You not tired?” Porthos asked.

Aramis answered with a cheeky smile as he continued to undo his shirt, button by button, until it hung open. His fingers then glided across his collarbone and down over his chest. He let out a deliberate sigh, closed his eyes and began to rock his hips back and forth on the bed as his fingers pinched one of his own nipples.

“Someone's horny,” Porthos commented with some amusement. “You're in the way of the TV. We were watching a really interesting documentary on art fraud...” 

Aramis chuckled but kept his eyes closed, lost in his own arousal. He pulled his hand away to tug his shirt off his shoulders, exposing his chest even more. Then his hand went down to his trousers and he began to rub himself on the outside of the fabric. His hips continued to dance back and forth, pushing his growing hardness into his hand as he expressed himself with a filthy little groan. Aramis wasn't the only one getting hard.

“Jesus,” Porthos whispered and Athos could see him squirming out of the corner of his eye. But Athos couldn't stop staring at Aramis whose moaning was becoming increasingly needy until he finally opened his eyes only to look down. Aramis' fingers tugged at his belt, undoing it quickly, then he popped open the button and pulled down the zip. Biting onto his bottom lip in a way which should be illegal, he pulled out his cock, already semi-erect and promptly wrapped his long fingers around it. He whimpered with satisfaction as he began to pump it himself with long, hard tugs.

Porthos was muttering something beside Athos but Athos just couldn't take his eyes off Aramis as the man stroked himself to hardness, seemingly pretending to be oblivious to their presence. He grew increasingly animated as he masturbated in front of them, his hips started to thrust more dramatically, pumping his now hard erection in and out of his fist. His repeated gasping was getting louder. Athos wasn't sure who was going to break first but, as it turned out, the answer was Porthos. Just as Aramis' gasps began to turn fast whimpers and his fingers stroked more furiously, Porthos dived forward. Aramis was shoved back dramatically onto the bed with a surprised yelp and, within seconds, Porthos was going down on him. Aramis let out a hungry moan as Porthos mouth went around his cock.

“Porthos!” Aramis cried, his now vacant arms flailing for a moment before gripping onto the duvet. Porthos wasted no time, Athos heard him moan around Aramis' erection before lifting his head up, sucking hard judging by the strangled moan which came out of Aramis' mouth. Then Porthos' head went back down, taking Aramis deep into his mouth once more.

“Porthos...Porthos...” Aramis was lost in another world as Porthos' head bobbed up and down and his hands tugged at Aramis' trousers until Aramis was kicking them off leaving the man completely naked apart from the white shirt which was still hanging off his arms. Aramis looked utterly beautiful and ready to devour. Athos watched the dirty show going on in front of him, very aware of his own erection was pushing up against his trousers. Porthos hollowed cheeks continued to make Aramis squirm until Porthos pulled off for a brief moment, panting furiously. 

“Athos, get some lube,” he requested. Athos wanted to spring into action but then he quickly realised that he had no-idea where Porthos hid the stuff. It just always seemed to...appear.

“Kitchen,” Porthos then instructed. “Drawer with the screwdrivers.”

How appropriate, Athos mused. Unamused with the lack of Porthos' hot mouth, Aramis reached out with a pained whimper, grabbed onto Porthos' hair and tugged his mouth back onto his cock again which Porthos engulfed dutifully. Athos clambered off the bed and walked awkwardly into the kitchen with his erection. He pulled at the drawer and found a half empty tube of lubrication which he brought back to the bed and placed it into the searching hand of Porthos. He didn't know what Porthos intended to do with it but, knowing Porthos, he probably had a good idea.

Athos got back onto the bed but it took him a while to realise that Aramis' desperate moans and whimpers were now directed at him. 

“Athos...Athos...please...” he was begging. Athos wasn't sure what he wanted but approached. The second he did, the moment he was kneeling down beside Aramis, Aramis reached out with a shaky hand and attempted to undo Athos' trousers. Athos had to help and sighed with relief once his cock was finally free. Aramis fingers immediately wrapped around it and he used to to tug Athos over. Athos wasn't sure what was happening but he wasn't going to argue with a man who was gripping onto his erection so he shuffled closer.

“Aramis, what...”

Shuffling to get right beside Aramis, Aramis awkwardly lifted his his head and, with a firm grip still on the hilt of Athos' cock, Aramis ran his wet tongue over the head of it. The sensation of something hard and wet moving over the most sensitive part made Athos groan and shiver. 

“Aramis...” he whispered but Aramis just continued to pull at his erection.

“Come on,” Aramis encouraged and Athos realised what Aramis wanted. So Athos, hoping he was right, shoved his trousers down his hips even more before straddling Aramis' shoulders. Almost immediately Aramis tugged his cock down and wrapped his lips around the head.

“Fuck..” Athos muttered, his heads reaching out to the bed above Aramis to steady himself. “Fuck.” Aramis wanted him to fuck his mouth and Athos felt happy to obey. With his legs open, body mounted over the sprawling Aramis, Athos began to push his hips forward and sink his cock into Aramis' willing mouth.

“Jesus,” Athos muttered again, realising that he was now the only one who could speak, the only one without a cock in his mouth. Aramis moaned happily down below and kept his lips wrapped tightly around Athos, his tongue gently rubbing up against the underside of Athos' cock. Athos tried to watch but he could only see the top of Aramis' head but, hoping Aramis would tell him off if he was too rough, he began to pump his hips up and down, slowly sliding his cock in and out of Aramis' wanton, wet mouth. 

Aramis appeared to love it, he shamelessly reached up and gripped hard onto Athos' hip, encouraging him to push forward deeper. But Athos was cautious, he didn't want to choke Aramis so he tried to keep some sort of control over his movements. But he fucked the mouth below him, pumping his cock in and out steadily, getting wetter the more he did so. Aramis was making all sorts of muffled noises of delight but, after a little while, the noises changed and Athos heard Aramis gasp so he let his cock pop out. He looked down between his legs and discovered Aramis, with his eyes tightly closed, was whimpering furiously like he was about to orgasm. Athos swung his leg off Aramis so he could watch and discovered that Aramis' legs were bent and open, Porthos' fingers were somewhere between his arse-cheeks, it looked like Aramis was being stretched open as Porthos continued to suck furiously until he pulled his lips off to speak, using his spare hand to continue pumping Aramis furiously as he did so.

“That's right, love, you come if you need to. It won't be over I promise.”

Aramis seemed to heed his words as Porthos didn't even have the time to put his mouth back on, Aramis thrust his hips up, tensed and then came everywhere. Bursts of it shot out over his stomach and chest as he whimpered. Athos watched his face, the tension and then the release, his eyes were squeezed shut at first but then they opened and he stared in a daze up at the ceiling. Once everything appeared to be spilt, Aramis sunk his body back down onto the bed again and he let out a happy sigh.

“Tell me what you dream of again,” Porthos asked. “What do you want me to do?”

“Fuck me,” Aramis requested in a husky voice.

“Now?”

“Yes, yes, whilst I suck Athos.”

The comment made Porthos raise an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes,” Aramis said. “That's what I want.”

“Then that's what you'll get, love. On your hands and knees then,” Porthos encouraged and slapped Aramis' side. Aramis did so, wobbling about a little at first but finally steadily himself. Aramis finally pulled his shirt off his arms, leaving him completely naked. Porthos pulled his own t-shirt off and shoved his jeans down his thighs. Porthos was a very blessed man and, despite the fact Athos had seen Porthos' manhood hundreds of times, it still took his breath away when he saw it. It was long, thick and beautiful, just like Porthos although Athos suspected he didn't see himself in that way. Porthos' hands explored Aramis' body for a moment, running down his sides, squeezing at his hips. Then Porthos picked up the lubrication once more and coated his own cock with it. 

“I'm big, Aramis, okay? So I'll take it slow and you tell me if it hurts.”

“I can take it,” Aramis promised, pushing his arse out towards Porthos. Porthos seemingly couldn't then resist bending down and rubbing his tongue between Aramis' arse-cheeks and, judging by the cry of delighted shock which then came from Aramis, obviously shoving his tongue inside as well.

The sight of it caused Athos to reach down and stroke himself. His cock ached at the sight of them both together, so incredibly exposed, so insanely beautiful.

“...Athos?” 

It took Athos a moment to realise he was being spoken to. Aramis was looking up at him with pleading eyes and then a smile.

“Come over here.”

Athos did as he was told. He was still dressed apart from having his cock out but that didn't seem to matter. He tried not to fall off the bed as he moved around the mattress until he was kneeling in front of Aramis.

“Ready, love?” Porthos then asked from behind. His mouth had left Aramis' arse and his lubricated cock was now approaching it instead.

“Yes,” Aramis gasped. “I want this so much. Both of you together, please....please...” Aramis was almost sobbing his request. He tried to reach out for Athos but his arms were shaking so much that one arm wasn't enough to hold himself up and he almost fell forward. His head also dropped forward and he let out a strangled moan as Porthos began to push inside.

“That's good, love, that's very good, just relax,” Porthos encouraged. Athos decided to wait. Aramis was in no state for anything else whilst he was taking Porthos' large erection. Porthos paused for a moment, Athos knew full well how gentle and patient Porthos could be. Athos was patient too. He waited until Aramis lifted his head again and smiled up at Athos, messy curls falling in front of his eyes.

“Let me suck you,” he requested so Athos moved forward again whilst Porthos was still. “I'll make you feel so good.”

Athos didn't much like it when Aramis spoke like that but, then again, he wasn't sure what Aramis would say if he hadn't been trained in sex, so Athos let it go. Aramis was clearly enjoying himself and keen to be the centre of attention.

Athos moved closer until his cock was right in front of Aramis' face. Then he reached down and guided it into Aramis' open lips. Aramis immediately groaned in delight and moved his head forward to suck him in. Athos began to slide his swollen cock in and out again, only pausing when Aramis closed his eyes and flinched but, when Athos looked up, he realised it was because Porthos was pushing in deeper. Athos stilled briefly as well until Aramis had recovered, groaned and went back to sucking hard on Athos' cock again.

Athos reached out and gently ran his fingers into Aramis' hair to help steady his head as he rocked his hips back and forth, pumping cautiously in and out of the hot mouth. Porthos appeared to be doing the same, Athos could see his hips moving at a similar speed. And they both kept it steady, pushing in and out at a similar speed. It was like torture, Athos wanted to fuck Aramis' mouth frantically and make himself come but now wasn't the time, he wanted Aramis to get used to it first. He even stopped for a moment, pulled his cock out so that Aramis could speak.

“You okay?” he asked, his own voice croaky with desire.

“You're both going too slow!” Aramis pointed out with obvious frustration which amused Athos. Porthos chuckled as well, leaning forward he kissed Aramis' back.

“We don't wanna hurt you,” he pointed out.

“Hurt me? You kidding? You're both driving me mad. Come on, faster, harder...I want this so much. We haven't had sex since Saturday!”

Thirty-five times a week, Athos reminded himself and felt exhausted just thinking about it. Still, Aramis was being open about his needs tonight and Athos wanted to help satisfy him. 

Aramis opened his mouth up for more so Athos indulged him and shoved his cock back in. This time he was slightly less gentle. Gripping onto Aramis' hair tighter with appeared to make Aramis groan with delight, he held Aramis' head still as he pumped into his mouth a little faster. It made Aramis' lips curl into a smile around his cock and then he moaned and moved his head around so that Athos was pushing against his cheek one minute and then down the back of his throat the next. Aramis was good at it, so terribly good. He tightened his lips so much that it made Athos feel dizzy. 

Porthos was speeding up as well. Athos could hear the familiar noises of Porthos grunting and felt Aramis' body being shoved back and forth on the bed. Each time he was shoved forward, Athos cock' went even deeper into his mouth. At one point he accidentally shoved himself right down the back of Aramis' throat and he heard Aramis gag so he immediately pulled his cock out but Aramis just whimpered in displeasure. 

“Athos!” Aramis all but yelled in protest, panting but obviously okay so Athos just shoved his cock back into his mouth and fucked it mouth quite thoroughly. He pumped furiously until his balls began to feel hot and he knew he was close.

“Aramis...” he groaned loudly. He was going to...going to...it was too late to give Aramis any warning. He came hard in Aramis' mouth, cursing underneath his breath as he did so. The release of pressure felt sweetly satisfying and Aramis took it all, he swallowed it all down, lapping up every last drop.

“I'm sorry,” Athos panted once his orgasm calmed. He hadn't meant to finish in Aramis' mouth but Aramis was just smiling at him with swollen, puffy lips as his body continued to bounce back and forth as Porthos fucked him in the arse. Athos stayed kneeling as he watched. No, he moved closer. He wanted to see what was happening. He watched in fascination as Porthos' large cock disappeared between Aramis' arse-cheeks. 

“Harder, Porthos,” Aramis requested hoarsely. “Please, I like it hard.”

Porthos took a firm grip of Aramis' hips and pulled the man back as he thrust forward. It made Aramis cry out. Porthos' was then going so deep that his balls were slapping against Aramis loudly with each sweaty thrust.

“Yes, Porthos, oh god, don't stop!” 

Porthos himself remained silent apart from his ever increasingly loud grunts and Athos watched, mouth slightly open, his boyfriend fucking his other boyfriend, the most incredible sight he had ever seen in his life. 

“You feel so good, Aramis, so good,” Porthos mumbled and moved to tug Aramis upright. Aramis was pulled backwards as Porthos leaned back to kneel onto the bed. Aramis sank down onto Porthos' lap and down onto his cock and there they stayed for a moment, both with heaving chests, both trembling with with arousal. Porthos' large hands took a moment to explore Aramis' exposed chest, fingers moving over the sweaty, shiny skin, exploring and playing. Then Porthos reached between Aramis' open legs, found his limp cock and gave it a squeeze.

“Porthos,” Aramis almost sobbed with need and began to bounce himself up and down gently onto Porthos' cock. “Porthos...please...” 

“Alright, love,” Porthos said lovingly and took his hand off Aramis' semi-erection to grope his body again. He pulled Aramis back against his own chest and kissed his shoulder. “Alright, love.” Porthos then reached for Aramis' sides and helped Aramis bounce up and down on his lap. 

Athos remained a voyeur for a moment but then he realised that he now had better access to Aramis. So Athos moved around until he was in front of the man. Aramis smiled at him and Athos leaned forward to kiss his mouth. It was sloppy and difficult with Aramis being bounced up and down, but they managed to kiss with tongues and wet lips. When he pulled back he watched Aramis with his legs wide open, kneeling on the bed, straddling Porthos' lap and riding him hard.

“Is it good?” Athos asked, drunk with the sight, openly staring at Aramis. 

“Yes,” Aramis responded with a grin. “I love it.” He closed his eyes and hummed with delight as he fucked himself on Porthos' large cock. “I want to do this forever.”

Athos chuckled. Aramis was drunk as well, drunk with his desire for them. It was beautiful seeing someone who had been used so much getting what he wanted at last. 

“Is it what you had imagined?” Athos asked. “With Porthos?”

Aramis, still with his eyes closed, smiled. “He's so...so big. Now I know why you make all of those noises when he does this to you.”

Athos blushed and didn't know how to respond. So he just leaned forward to kiss Aramis again because that seemed like the better option. Aramis kissed back, smiling and sighing alternately between the messy kissing. 

“Aramis, I gotta...” Porthos couldn't finish his sentence.

Athos stopped kissing Aramis because he wanted to watch. 

“Do it,” Aramis suggested. “Hard if you need to. I want to feel it, I want to feel you.”

Porthos appeared to hesitate for a moment but then pushed Aramis forward onto his hands and knees again. Aramis flopped onto the bed, his time his arms could no longer keep him supported so he rested down onto his elbows, his arse still up in the air, still being pounded into and Porthos did pound. Thankfully he had a good grip on Aramis' hips as he hammered into the willing body. Aramis' unrestrained surprised gasps filled the room along with the sound of Porthos' grunts. Aramis cleared loved what Porthos was doing judging by the noises he was making.

After a couple of minutes of the rhythmic onslaught, Porthos shoved his cock in hard one last time and then almost roared as he finally came, deep inside Aramis' arse. Athos watched the whole thing in awe, feeling woozy and overwhelmed with pent-up arousal after watching the show.

And then it was over. Porthos, who suddenly looked utterly exhausted, slipped out of Aramis and collapsed down onto the bed with a happy chuckle. He reached out for Aramis and tugged Aramis down on top of him, kissing the side of Aramis' head.

“Oh, love, that was...you okay?”

Aramis smiled as he flopped onto Porthos.

“More than okay. Where's Athos?” Aramis pointed out and Athos, realising that was his cue, came to join them, not even caring about the sweat and the mess. They became a tangle of limbs and body parts as they all cuddled up together, all panting furiously, insanely satisfied and content.

"We both love you very much, Aramis."

Porthos' words caused Aramis to snuggle closer and grip harder which Athos assumed was a good thing.


	51. The Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [OOC - I know it has been ages since the last chapter, I'm sorry :( Life got in the way]

The next morning Porthos got up early because boxes were being delivered to the house so they could all start packing for the move. Athos had never seen Porthos so eager to get out of bed before; the prospect of moving into a bigger place seemed to be exciting to Porthos. Athos was looking forward to it as well, or at least having more space but he was still rather in denial about the moving part.

Athos couldn't cope with watching them pack. Seeing things put haphazardly into boxes quickly stressed him out. So, when Porthos picked up on Athos' anxiety and suggested that he head off to work and let them do the packing, Athos was happy to follow the suggestion. At work he could pretend that none of the packing was even happening and, as soon as d'Artagnan came in, Athos grabbed him for some one-to-one time. The lad's arm was still in a sling but a broken bone appeared to do nothing to dampen his enthusiasm so Athos took him aside into a room, Treville's suggestion about mentoring the young man still ringing in his ears.

So they sat at a meeting desk where d'Artagnan was able to be very honest about what he enjoyed about doing the special cases work and what he was struggling with. They talked about those difficulties until they came up with some possible solutions for d'Artagnan, one of those being to spend more time with Athos which Athos didn't mind doing, he was still rather fond of the lad.

“When will we go back to see Vincent?” D'Artagnan asked once their initial conversation had come to an end.

“Soon,” Athos said. Vincent had still been on his mind, despite all of the distractions. “It seems the man used Aramis' mother's mental illness to get access to Aramis as a child.”

D'Artagnan flinched at the thought. “But at least he's behind bars. We need to find out who else deserves to be there with him. Do you want me and Constance to talk to Marsac?”

“Yes but after his trial. We can talk to Vincent before that. Perhaps you can organise it?”

D'Artagnan nodded keenly before pausing. “But what if he doesn't want to see us?”

“He will. We're giving him attention, making him feel important, unfortunately he'll probably like that.”

D'Artagnan nodded again and reached out to rub his broken elbow which was the first time he had done so all morning. But then something changed and he began to smile.

“So when will you have a house-warming party?”

Athos immediately frowned which made d'Artagnan laugh.

“Well you may not want one but Porthos and Aramis might!”

“D'Artagnan!” Athos hissed sharply. “No-one's meant to even know he's living with us.”

“No-one's in here!” D'Artagnan pointed out, leaning back in his chair with an excited grin.

“I just...Marsac's trial is in less than a month. Once that's over we can relax a little bit more.”

“After the trial then. I'll hold off Constance until then.”

“Constance?”

“Yeah, she's excited about seeing your new place.”

“Well she can some and see it,” Athos suggested. “Although I've not even seen it yet and I'm moving into it at the weekend. How are things with you and Constance?”

Athos had no-idea what had happened after their one-night stand. Perhaps they had put it down to a drunken moment of madness and everything had been forgotten since then but, judging by the way d'Artagnan's chair suddenly slammed back down and the smile disappeared, Athos got the feeling that nothing had been forgotten.

“Umm do you mean work-wise or...?”

“I mean the 'or'.”

D'Artagnan glanced across at the closed door, now all of a sudden he was the one concerned about people listening in.

“Yeah we're...good. I mean we're...well we're keeping it quiet. The Captain would go mad if he knew that we were dating as well you as and Porthos.”

So they were dating then and Athos had a feeling that d'Artagnan had the right to be wary. The Captain's 'blind-eye' might not extend to everyone.

“What are you going to do?” Athos asked because it wasn't like they would be-able to keep it quiet forever. One day they might want to get married...have children, they wouldn't be-able to keep it a secret then.

D'Artagnan began to look awkward. “We've been talking about it but...well, I'll let Constance tell you when she feels ready to.”

Athos was intrigued but he wasn't gong to push d'Artagnan about if they had already decided Constance would tell him. “Alright. Would you like some help with your cases?”

“Sure. There's an old missing persons case which has just been re-opened because of some new evidence. You might be interested in that.”

“More than interested.”

Athos helped them for the next few hours, it proved to be a great distraction but, by the time he got home, half of the house was in boxes. Athos did his very best to control his anxiety over the situation but a lot of hand-washing and light-switching happened all evening until Athos managed to calm down enough to go to bed although his sleep was somewhat unsettled despite Porthos holding him all night.

The following day it was time for their weekly meeting with Ninon which Athos was grateful for because he was feeling on edge. Perhaps it was the move, perhaps it was the impending court-case, but he had been snapping at Porthos and Aramis all morning without meaning to. Porthos, who had been patient at first, was now getting grumpy and Aramis, as forgiving as ever, was just looking forlorn about it all.

“It feels like I haven't seen the three of you in a long time even though it was only a week ago,” Ninon pointed out. “But so much has happened since then. Shall we talk about the weekend?”

Athos wasn't even sure he wanted to talk about that anymore. He now wanted nothing more than to forget all about the terrible weekend with his father.

“Yes,” Aramis said, clearly not being-able to read Athos' mind. “Athos' dad hit him and that wasn't a nice thing to do.”

“No, Aramis, it wasn't,” Ninon concurred with her usual soothing voice. Being in her presence was making Athos feel a little calmer at least. “That must have been upsetting for all of you.”

Aramis gave her a firm and certain nod.

“How are you all feeling now?”

The room was plunged into silence, their morning of putting up with Athos' behaviour was clearly weighing on them.

“Porthos, how have you been since the weekend?” Ninon asked when none of them came through with any response.

Porthos appeared to be surprised at having a question directed at him but was eventually politely enough to answer.

“Dunno really. I was angry about it for a while, at his father I mean. Still am I guess. But...I dunno...we're moving at the weekend so I'm more focused on making sure that goes okay...for Athos.”

“Why Athos?” Ninon asked.

“Well I know it's gonna stress him out,” Then he added with a mutter. “...it already is.”

“No it's not,” Athos immediately grumbled.

Ninon looked at Athos with a smile but Athos could tell beneath the smile that she was unhappy that he had interrupted. Athos sank into the chair with shame.

“Why do you say that, Porthos?”

“He has been frowning ever since we started packing,” Porthos pointed out which caused Athos to frown even more in protest.

“Athos,” Ninon said, gently indicting that he was now able to participate. “You do look rather unhappy today. Is it the move?”

“No,” he continued to protest even though he knew it was.

“Would you like to share what's on your mind then?”

“Not really.”

He heard Porthos sigh, Porthos actually sighed. Athos felt terrible for annoying Porthos so much that he was sighing. Porthos was always so patient with him, he was obviously really pushing it this time but he didn't mean to be. He unlocked his arms and tried to consciously break down the wall he knew his anxiety had built up.

“Sorry,” he apologised. “I...I don't know what's...I'm just feeling wound up.”

Ninon couldn't stop the corner of her mouth turning up into a smile, she was obviously pleased that Athos was at least trying to open up but the smile promptly disappeared and she looked concerned once again.

“You're feeling anxious?”

“Yes, I am.”

“About the move?”

Athos paused to think about it. It was everything, the move was just one thing but yes, right now the move was the most prominent thing on his mind. Everything was in boxes, nothing was where it all should be, everything was wrong.

“I just...I like things to be in order, I like things to all be where they should be and it all feels chaotic right now.”

“Moving house is chaotic,” Ninon pointed out. “But it's only short-term chaos. Are you also looking forward to the move?”

“I don't know,” Athos automatically admitted then stopped to think about it. He was, he was looking forward to having more space. He was looking forward to Aramis feeling settled in the apartment which he had personally chosen with Porthos. “I haven't even seen the place yet but what it represents, yes, I'm happy about that.”

“And what does it represent?”

She really was pushing him but he fought against his grumpiness and tried to think. They did these sessions for Aramis' sake after all, Athos did want to participate as best he could.

“It represents...the three of us cementing our relationship. Our current house is the house that Porthos and I brought together but now there's three of us and this apartment will represent that. And we'll have more space so Aramis won't have to sleep on the sofa-bed in the lounge anymore, he'll have his own room.”

Ninon smiled and turned to Aramis.

“And how are you feeling about that now, Aramis?”

Aramis wiggled in his seat until he was sitting on his hands.

“I'm still a bit confused,” he admitted. “But I'm very excited. It's a really cool place, Porthos and I picked it.”

“And what are you confused about?” Ninon asked calmly but Athos had to stiffen a groan. They'd had the same conversation with Aramis ten times already. Athos wasn't entirely sure which part of it Aramis still didn't understand. However, the answer Aramis gave this time was a little more unusual...

“Why Porthos and Athos are sharing a room but I've got my own one.”

It silenced them all. When the same topic had come up many times before Aramis had expressed confusion about when they were going to share a bed and when they weren't. Now there was a new concern, or perhaps this had been the real concern all along and Athos, as he thought about it, began to realise it was a very valid concern. It hadn't occurred to him before how odd it was that he and Porthos would be sharing a room but Aramis would have his own one. It had been assumed that Athos and Porthos would share a room more out of old habit than any sort of logic.

“Athos? Porthos?” Ninon encouraged them both to respond to Aramis.

“I...” Porthos hesitated for a moment as he looked across at Aramis. “...I guess we just thought that you'd like your own space. I thought it would make you feel settled and wanted by us but yeah, I guess it is a little weird the way we're doing it. Does it bother you? Because, in my head, I wasn't thinking that it wouldn't literally be our room and your room. I was sort of imagining that we'd all spend time in all the rooms. Does that make sense?”

The question was directly back to Aramis.

“Yes.”

“Would you rather...” Porthos glanced over at Athos but Athos didn't feel that he could help very much. “...that we all have a bedroom between the three of us and then use the spare room for when someone wants some space?”

Aramis pull his hands out from beneath his legs and stared down at his fingers.

“No, I...no it doesn't matter. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I'm not confused, I'm sorry.”

“Aramis,” Ninon leaned forward to try and catch Aramis' attention. “This is a safe place. You can say whatever you like here, we all want to hear it. Don't apologise for being honest, it's really good that you were honest.”

“Yeah, mate, it is,” Porthos agreed. “I hadn't even thought about how that might seem to you until now. I'm glad you said something.”

Aramis managed to give a little smile and it wasn't long before Porthos and Aramis were holding hands between the chairs.

“It sounds like we all need to talk about this and come up with a solution?” Ninon suggested. “Shall we do that now?”

Athos folded his arms again. Originally he had wanted to talk about the previous weekend in the session but now they were talking about moving house and he only had himself to blame for it. If he could just stop being such a freak for one single day...

“It also seems very important to help Athos right now,” Ninon suddenly said and Athos realised that he was being stared at. “Are you still staying in a hotel over the weekend?”

“Yeah,” Porthos explained. “We're moving Saturday but then we've got a hotel room booked for Saturday and Sunday night so Athos has time to unpack his stuff however he needs to.”

“Well that seems like a good idea. Athos, what else do you need?”

“I don't need anything,” Athos grumbled and then rolled his eyes at himself. He really needed to break out of his own bad mood. So he sighed and unfolded his arms and mentally told himself to get a grip. Then, a hand pressed on his arm and he looked across to discover that Aramis was reaching out for him. Aramis, whose face blatantly displayed his worry and concern.

“Aramis, I...I'm okay,” Athos tried to express and let Aramis grab his hand which was what he seemed to be after. “I'm sorry, I'm fine.”

“Why don't you explain to Aramis how everything feels for you right now?” Ninon patiently suggested. “Because none of us have OCD like you do so we don't understand.”

Athos didn't mind trying although he wasn't sure how successful he'd be at expressing himself.

“I just...nothing feels okay right now. When certain things aren't in their correct place or clean, then everything feels wrong. Everything is just enhanced, every worry, every anxious thought, every concern, every annoyance...and I can't shake it. I'm sorry, I am trying.”

There was a pause.

“That was very articulately explained, Athos, thank you,” Ninon said warmly. “Do you understand Aramis? I mean Athos has actually done incredibly well over these past few years with his OCD. I'd say that his case is mild now compared to how it used to be. He has really worked hard at not letting it control his life.”

Although she as speaking to Aramis, Athos suspected that it was meant to be a bit of encouragement to Athos at the same time.

“I think he's amazing,” Aramis responded.

“Amazing?” Athos couldn't help but laugh. What was amazing about being so emotionally inept? But Aramis nodded adamantly.

“I can't imagine what it must be like having that in your head all of the time but you hardly ever show it. I mean I notice the lights going on and off lots of times and I see you adjusting things and I know about your hand washing and I know not to touch your books and where to put my shoes and I know we have a hundred bed-sheets in the house but you still go to work every single day and you help people all of the time. You don't let your OCD stop you from doing anything. You're amazing.”

“I...thank you,” Athos was a little taken back.

Athos didn't want to go home that night and face all of the boxes again so, now understanding and being a lot more patient, Porthos suggested that they all go out to eat somewhere so they did. It was nice just chatting about normal things. Aramis was telling them all about the books he had been reading, Porthos told Aramis all about his past amateur boxing career because Aramis seemed interested. The mention of Charon seemed to take Aramis' mind to Alexei and Aramis asked how Alexei was and if he could see him. Porthos promised that he'd call Charon the following day to find out and he was sure that a visit would be fine.

Their chatter got Athos' mind off things. But, by the time they got home though, the boxes were still there piled up against the walls and nothing was where it should be. Nothing at all. His books were still sitting in the bookcase but that was all, everything else downstairs was in boxes, all shoved in together, no thought of order. Athos immediately disappeared into the bathroom in an attempt to ignore the issue where he washed his hands over and over until, when that wasn't enough, he stepped into the shower. He scrubbed furiously at his skin until it was red and sore. After what must have been quite a long time, a figure came into view through the steamed-up shower-door.

“Athos?”

It was Aramis' voice.

“I'll be out in a minute!” Athos insisted. He didn't want Aramis to see what he was doing. “Go...go wait outside!”

But Aramis didn't leave the bathroom.

“You've been in here a long time,” Aramis said calmly. “You need to come out.”

He sounded like a hesitant version of Porthos. Athos suspected that Porthos had sent him up, perhaps Porthos was training Aramis in 'how to deal with Athos'.

“I'll be out in a minute!” Athos insisted. Just one more scrub, then everything would be okay. He poured soap onto his arm but then a gush of cold air hit him and he quickly turned to find that Aramis had opened the shower-door.

“Aramis!” Athos yelled without meaning to. Aramis, fully clothed, was looking Athos up and down. He then concluded his assessment with a grimace.

“You're clean now. You're too clean.”

Athos knew that there was no such thing as being too clean but there was something about Aramis' expression which made him feel guilty.

“I...I'll come out,” he promised and washed the soap off his arm before turning the water off. Aramis had left the shower-door open and was waiting for him with a towel which meant that, as soon as Athos stepped out, Aramis pounced, wrapping the large towel around his shoulders and rubbing him dry. Athos stood there obediently and tried not to flinch as the towel rubbed over his raw skin. Aramis was being a little over-eager but it was very quick and effective.

“I'll get the cream,” Aramis said once he was obviously satisfied that Athos was dry enough. Athos watched as Aramis walked over to the sink and opened up the cupboard beneath it which was where Porthos kept the aloe vera cream.

“Come on, Athos.”

Aramis took Athos by the hand and led him into the bedroom. The bedroom at least didn't have any boxes. Nothing had been packed from the bedroom yet so it was the same as it always was and that meant it felt like a safe place.

“Where's Porthos?” Athos asked as he was gently led to the bed with nothing but a towel around his waist. He assumed that Porthos was still in the house somewhere but he just wanted to check.

“Downstairs, he said he'll be up in a minute.”

Athos sat down on the edge of the bed and Aramis knelt down in front of him on the carpet. Opening up the tub of cream, Aramis began to gently rub it into Athos' arm.

“You shouldn't make yourself sore,” Aramis commented.

“I...” Athos wasn't sure how to defend himself so he just decided not to. “...I can't help it.”

“I know.”

They both remained silent as Aramis administered the cream to Athos' arms and hands. Athos managed to find comfort in Aramis' gentle actions and found his mind drifting away from boxes and moving. He just thought about Aramis instead, and how lucky they were that they had found Aramis when they had and how lovely it was having him around. Once Aramis had finished with his Athos' arms, he got up and knelt onto the bed. He placed some cold lotion onto Athos' shoulders and began to rub it in. Athos closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of Aramis' gentle fingers and then the warmth of his lips as Aramis placed a kiss down onto Athos' skin.

“I love you,” came the gentle, honest statement a moment later.

“I love you too,” Athos responded and then two arms wrapped around his torso and gave him a squeeze.

“Do you want to lie down and hug for a while?” Aramis asked. It was a sweet suggestion and one which Athos was happy to fulfil.

“Alright, let me put some underwear on first.”

He wasn't sure if the underwear would be coming off at some point but he didn't want to lie on the bed in a wet towel. Aramis, without even needing to be told, carried the towel back into the bathroom to hang it up whilst Athos slipped on a pair of clean boxers. Aramis eventually reappeared a few minutes later, Athos could smell that he had even brushed his teeth. What on earth had he done to deserve two such perfect partners?

Then Aramis got undressed and they both crawled into the bed where Aramis wrapped Athos up in his arms and Athos rested his head on Aramis' chest. It wasn't a position they often found themselves in but Athos rather liked it. He enjoyed feeling Aramis' warm skin beneath his cheek and the comforting movement of his chest slowly rising and falling. Athos did try to stay awake as they waited for Porthos to join them but it was tricky and, before he knew it, he was falling asleep.

Athos got stuck into work the following day. He worked with Constance and d'Artagnan on their missing person case, they interviewed the new witness who had been a child at the time but had recently stepped forward twenty years later with new information. They then tracked down the now grown-up children of the woman who had gone missing two decades ago. Athos hated bringing up their mother's disappearance again but the new lead did suggest that she had gone off in a car with a man and there was a chance that the man was known to the family.

Working kept Athos busy and his mind off the move and, on the Saturday, just before the removal men arrived, Athos went into work again. Porthos and Aramis didn't mind that Athos kept on disappearing, they seemed to understand. The idea was still that Athos would then have the whole evening and the following day to sort out this personal belongings and get settled into the house whilst they all stayed in a nearby hotel. It was on the Saturday morning that Constance came over to sit with him.

“I have something to ask you,” Constance said and Athos wondered if it was connected to d'Artagnan's comment about her 'idea' a couple of days before.

“Go ahead,” Athos encouraged, turning away from his computer-screen to give her his full attention.

“I'm thinking about taking the sergeant's exam,” she admitted and then chewed on her bottom lip in a rare display of nerves. The news delighted Athos. He was pleased that she was thinking about her career and had ambition and, obviously, it would mean she'd be positioned somewhere else which would solve the problem of her relationship with d'Artagnan.

“I'd be sad to lose you from the team, Constance, but you absolutely should go for it. You're more than capable. Yes you're young but you've been in the force since you left school which is longer than most. You're bright, you've got leadership skills, you'd be wonderful at it.”

Her eyes lit up. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely. And look, if you fail the first time, just keep doing it until you pass. You deserve it.”

She was smiling. “Thank you. The next exam is in four months time. Do you think I should go for that one or wait?”

“If you have the time to study for it, go for that one. I can help you study, if you like?”

“Okay...great, thank you. You see if I got a new posting it would be good for...other things as well.”

“I know,” Athos admitted. “D'Artagnan told me.”

Constance chuckled. “Course he did, he can't keep his mouth shut about anything. I don't want to leave this team and this station but it just feels like the right time and it means that d'Artagnan and I can...well...”

“I know. Porthos and I should have really done the same thing.”

“Well it works between the two of you, doesn't it? You're a good team. I'm not sure that it would work so well with d'Artagnan and I. I think we'd work better...well not working together.” She laughed. “I have a feeling that the Captain is starting to suspect as well. So, coming up with a plan for the future feels like the best option.”

“I'm happy for you,” Athos said, meaning about everything. “If you leave the team it'll be a great loss to us but you'd be a blessing to someone else. Hopefully you won't go too far, there are plenty of other stations in Paris.”

“Oh, Athos, you're so sweet.”

Constance leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Athos, completely inappropriate behaviour in a work-place Athos decided but it was rather nice all the same. When she pulled back though she looked at him concerned.

“Shouldn't you be at home today? Why are you even here?”

“It's better for me to be here,” Athos explained. “If I witnessed the move it would only stress me out and then stress out the other two because I'm stressed out...no being here in the office away from it all is the best place for me.”

“Well alright,” she didn't look convinced but appeared to accept his reasoning anyway. “I'm looking forward to the house party.”

“There won't be any...” he began but she had already smiled at him and was rolling Porthos' chair back to its desk.

Porthos rang Athos late afternoon to explain that the move had gone well and did Athos want to come and look at the apartment now? Athos began to feel itchy just at the thought of it all but it was his new home, of course he had to go and see it, so he told Constance and d'Artagnan that he was leaving and off he went.

Getting out of the car, Athos' first impression of the apartment block was a positive one. It was in a nice neighbourhood and everything appeared to look well maintained. The light bricks and large windows gave the apartment block a welcoming feel. When he got into the elevator, the mirrors were clean and the carpet reasonably dirt-free. So far so good but his heart was still pounding as the elevator made its way up to the top floor which was where their new home was located. When he got out he made his way down the corridor. There only appeared to be four apartments on each floor so it didn't take him long to find theirs. He had barely knocked when the door flew open and a grinning Aramis appeared.

“Athos!” He said enthusiastically. “I saw the car outside! Come in!”

Athos stepped into the apartment, his anxiety was sky-high, his heart was trying to escape his chest and his skin was itching like crazy but he was trying to ignore all of those feelings. Immediately he found himself in a huge room with large windows which stretched almost from the floor right up to the ceiling along one wall. The view was stunning. In fact Athos ignored everything else, he just walked towards the windows.

“Wow,” he muttered to himself, staring out over the panoramic view they now had of Paris.

“I know, huh?” Porthos chuckled from somewhere in the room and came over. “You like it?”

Athos couldn't speak, he loved it, he tried to orientate himself and figure out which churches were which but then he stared in awe at the Eiffel tower in the distance, there she is, what a view. A smile began to creep onto his face as a warm hand pressed at his shoulder.

“You ready to be shown around?”

Athos, not wanting to stop staring out at the view, did reluctantly nod and turned to look back at the room.

“So we've put most of the boxes along this wall and in the office to get them out of the way and not make it so overwhelming.”

Athos immediately saw the boxes piled up against the wall but it didn't look too bad. The room he was standing in was very large indeed. The carpet was warm yellow, the walls cream with gold design. Everything was light, clean and spacious, Athos liked it. There was a piano in one corner, light brown sofas and their TV was already set up. Then, the other end of the room, was the kitchen area. It was smaller than their old kitchen but it looked new with black marble counter-tops and red cabinets. Aramis was all but bouncing in the room obviously full of excitement and anticipation.

“It's great,” Athos said, being honest. That just made Aramis grin even more.

“Come and see the rest of it! I can't wait to show you the best shower in the world!”

Aramis raced over and grabbed Athos' hand. Athos was then tugged through a door which led to a hallway. Off the hallway was an 'office' which was currently being used as a store cupboard for the boxes. Then a bedroom which was going to be the spare bedroom. It had so much floor space that there was plenty of room for Aramis to do the happy dance he was currently doing. The dog bed was already at the foot of the large bed and Aramis' rucksack was on the mattress, perhaps Aramis had claimed the room after all. Athos watched Aramis half with amusement and half in horror at the man's current state of boundless energy.

“I don't know how to calm him down either,” Porthos muttered out of the corner of his mouth at Athos and then chuckled. “So this is Aramis' room...or not Aramis' room...whatever Aramis wants to do.”

Athos nodded. There were four white selves on the wall which would hold plenty of books for Aramis and there was a desk underneath the window where he could read and a large wardrobe for the clothes Aramis didn't even own yet. It was really nice.

The family bathroom was pleasant enough as well, it had a huge corner bathtub and a shower over the bath. But that wasn't the shower the other two were excited about, it seemed. The shower they were keen to show Athos was in the en-suite. So that's where they went next into the main bedroom which was equally large. The built-in wardrobes would give Athos enough space to do whatever he wanted with his clothes, Porthos pointed out. Athos was beginning to realise how much he had been on their minds when they had picked the place.

But then came the pièce de résistance, the thing the other two were both so keen to show Athos. They all walked into the en-suite and there, alongside the whole length of the back wall, was indeed one of the largest walk-in showers Athos had ever seen.

“Go in!” Aramis encouraged. “Go and see!”

So Athos did. He opened up the glass door and stepped in. It was clean, so beautifully clean. The gray and white marble walls were spotless. The shower-head was huge and there were a couple of smaller ones on the walls, which Athos assumed were some sort of jet-sprays. There was all sorts of dials and nobs which Athos knew would take him weeks to figure out but, most of all, there was so much room it would fit all three of them easily. It actually was one of the best showers he had he ever seen.

“Do you like it?” came the slightly nervous call of Aramis from the other side of the bathroom.

“Yes,” Athos admitted although is voice came out as a squeak. “Can we...can we afford this?” He then asked. He knew that they were going to rent out their old house but the rent money would only really cover the mortgage and bills on that house and police salaries weren't the most generous; their new apartment looked expensive.

“Yes,” he heard Porthos say. “It's only a little bit more old mortgage and you know that neither of us ever buy much anyway. I worked it all out, we'll be fine.”

Athos trusted that Porthos had. When it came to money Porthos was actually better than Athos at figuring it all out, probably due to the fact Athos had grown up not having to even think about money, whereas Porthos had to count every cent.

“And I'll work more!” Aramis offered which caused Athos to leave the shower and go back to them.

“No,” Athos told him sternly. “You have enough to do with the restaurant and the library. That's fine for the time-being.”

The last thing they needed was Aramis going off giving random men blow-jobs to pay for his share of the rent.

“So you really do like it?” Aramis asked and Athos smiled at him.

“I really do.”

Aramis jumped forward and flung himself at Athos who squeezed him back. It wasn't long then before Porthos came over and engulfed them both into his arms.


	52. The Public Restroom

Athos' feelings about the new apartment only improved once he had managed to sort his books into alphabetical order, his clothes into type and colour order and the shoes had been organised into pairs.

Aramis remained excited through-out the entire weekend and they ended up having lots of sex with him in the hotel just to tired him out enough so that he would calm down and sleep. Porthos commented privately to Athos that Aramis would come down with a crash at some point but Athos didn't understand what he meant until it happened. On the Monday they left the hotel and moved into their apartment properly, Porthos was busy organising the kitchen utensils as Athos sat at the dining-room table catching up with recent cases from the police station on his laptop. After a while Athos realised that he hadn't seen Aramis or Frodo for a while so, after visiting the bathroom, he went off on a curious search. They weren't in the office, the bathrooms or the main bedroom (which the dog was banned from anyway due to Athos' OCD). Athos eventually spotted the back-end of the dog in the spare bedroom.

“Aramis?”

He walked into the room and went around the bed. Aramis was sitting on the floor reading a book, leaning up against the bed frame. Frodo was lying down as well, his head on Aramis' lap. The dog wagged its tail and looked up briefly when Athos came over. Athos didn't understand why the dog liked him when he mostly ignored the thing but at least the dog was acknowledging him, unlike Aramis.

“Why are you sitting on the floor? Why don't you sit on the bed?” He couldn't comprehend why anyone would actually choose to sit on the floor.

“I'm reading,” Aramis mumbled, as if that explained it. But Athos picked up on the squeak in his voice before noticing that his eyes were glistening.

“Are you alright?” Athos asked and carefully stepped over the dog to face him. Although he wasn't really facing him, he was towering over him so, even though it made him feel dirty just thinking about sitting on the carpet, Athos lowered himself down. He knew it would be covered in dogs hairs as Frodo had claimed the spare-room as his own but he tried to ignore all thoughts of that and set his focus on Aramis.

“Yes,” came the dishonest reply before a bite onto the bottom lip in an attempt to stop it from shaking. Athos didn't understand what was going on, Aramis had been so happy all weekend, hyperactive even. Perhaps this was the 'crash' Porthos had predicted.

“No you're not, you're upset. What's the matter? Is it a sad book?”

Athos leaned forward to try and read the title but he barely caught a glimpse before Aramis put the book down onto his lap, carefully avoiding Frodo's head. His hand then shot up to cover his face and disguise the tears which were clearly now flowing judging by the quiet sobs. Athos froze, not at all understanding why happy, bouncy Aramis had gone from being so excited to now breaking down and crying.

“Aramis,” he said warmly, knowing that he needed to do something, not wanting to appear completely inept and call for Porthos immediately. He moved to sit next to Aramis and wrapped his arm around the upset man's shoulders.

“What's with the tears?”

“They're j-just tears,” came the muffled reply.

“Okay,” Athos commented and didn't say anything more for the moment because, if Aramis wanted to cry, he could cry. Athos just kept his arm around him and waited patiently for Aramis to want to talk. Aramis didn't often stay quiet for too long after all and, as it turned out, he was right to wait because Aramis eventually lowered his hand.

“This is the nicest place I've ever lived and you're the nicest people I've ever known...I don't want it to change.”

It took a while for Athos to process what Aramis just said. Why had Aramis said that? What did he mean?

“Why would it change...”

Athos pulled his arm away from Aramis' shoulders and turned to look at Aramis' face. A tightness started to creep into his chest.

“What will change, Aramis?”

“If Marsac doesn't stay in jail,” Aramis explained, glancing briefly at Athos before staring back down at his legs.

“What...why...Aramis, we've explained before, haven't we? Even if he gets out, you won't have to go back to him.”

“I will,” Aramis' shoulders slumped. “You don't understand.”

“No, I guess I don't,” Athos admitted, trying to sound in control even though the tightness was getting worse in his chest as his rib-cage began to constricted his lungs. “This is your home and we're your boyfriends. Free or not, Marsac can't change any of that.”

“You don't understand.”

“Then explain it to me!” Athos snapped in a panic. Once again any thoughts of Aramis finally being settled appeared to be somewhat premature. Aramis cringed at the shout which made Athos feel like a prick. Shouting at Aramis never helped and Athos should have learnt that by now. Athos knew that he needed to calm himself down before he had a panic attack so he closed his eyes and counted out a couple of long breaths.

“Athos...are you okay?” came a quiet, concerned voice. Athos opened his eyes to find Aramis leaning forward seemingly worried. He could breathe, he was fine, he just needed to focus on Aramis.

“I'm fine, sorry. But please, I want to understand. Can you explain it to me?”

Aramis gave Athos a nod, an agreement to try his best.

“Marsac won't just...he won't just let me live with you. He won't like it.”

“I don't care what he 'likes',” Athos pointed out firmly. “Aramis, you can make your own decisions about your life. If you want to be with us and not Marsac, then that's what will happen.”

“That's not how it works.”

“It is now.”

Aramis looked thoughtful and Athos' own mind began to reflect back on the stories Aramis had told them of how Marsac had once been 'nice' but then he changed. Aramis had seen him lose his temper, Aramis had seen him hit people. Marsac ordered bones to be broken when someone pissed him off. Marsac had almost killed Aramis when Aramis had pissed him off. It was perfectly understandable that Aramis was scared, Athos realised. So he reached out and began to run his fingers through Aramis' hair because he knew that Aramis would like that.

“In the unlikely event that Marsac is found not guilty, we'll get a restraining order on him so he can't come near you. He won't know where you are anyway. And, if he does try to find you...we'll protect you. We have a whole police station at our disposal and, as a very last resort, we can move to another part of the country if it helps you feel safer.”

“No!” Aramis suddenly shouted and leaned forward to grab hold of Athos' shirt, his fingers gripped onto the material. “No, this is the nicest place I've ever lived. This is the best apartment in the world. We just found it, I don't want to leave it. That's what I've been thinking about, I don't want to go.”

Athos didn't pull Aramis' hands away but instead covered them with his own hands and gave them a squeeze. He didn't care that Aramis was creasing his shirt, all he cared about was trying to get Aramis to understand that they'd do anything to protect him.

“It is a nice apartment but there are other nice places. But it won't get that far, I promise. Porthos and I won't let anything happen to you.”

Athos couldn't tell if he had managed to reassure Aramis or not. Aramis' eyes were still wet and, as he blinked, a tear rolled down his cheek.

“You're scared?” Athos pointed out, it was more of a rhetorical question but he received an honest nod in response and felt the fingers loosen beneath his own.

“That's perfectly understandable. But we'll make sure he goes to jail, for a few years at least. Then things will be different when he's eventually released.”

What was he saying? He couldn't make a promise like that but he didn't know what else to say, he didn't want Aramis to feel scared.

“What if I can't say what I said to that lady when I'm in court?” Aramis whispered.

“Just do your best. It's not all on you, I'll be testifying as well and Alexei might if he's feeling better and there's a lot of evidence, so don't feel stressed about it. Just try, that's all we ask.”

Athos hoped that his words were helping. He didn't want Aramis to change his mind about testifying but he also didn't want to Aramis to feel under pressure because that would only heighten his nerves.

“Okay, I'll try.”

“Please don't worry,” Athos requested. He didn't like the fact Aramis had been alone in the bedroom getting upset. Although not so alone with Frodo perhaps.

“Alright, I won't.”

“No, I mean...” Fuck. He didn't want Aramis to think that it wasn't normal to feel worried or that he couldn't talk about his feelings. Athos cursed himself for being so useless. Porthos was so much better at the comforting thing. Athos was considering calling for him when Aramis lunged forward and threw his arms around Athos. Athos gave him a squeeze in return.

“Thank you, Athos,” Aramis whispered. Well okay perhaps, Athos briefly considered, I'm not so terrible at it after all.

Nothing more was said about the topic as Aramis seemed to cheer up a little and, the following day, Porthos headed out with Aramis because he had arranged a meeting with Alexei like he had promised. Athos was given the option to go with them but he felt that Alexei probably wouldn't appreciate a large audience so Athos went to the station to show his face and create a file on Hector Lovitt. He collected everything he could find about Hector and his time in Paris, who worked in his office, which other businesses his firm worked with. But somewhere, deep down, Athos knew that finding the third man connected to Hector and Vincent was like looking for a needle in a haystack. They needed a break-through and, at the moment, the schools keeping their own lists of the boys who attended the out-of-school programmes run by the church was one option but there was something else which could potentially solve the mystery a lot faster...Vincent. D'Artagnan had arranged a visit to the prison on Friday but Athos was trying not to feel too hopeful as it was more likely that Vincent would continue to be uncooperative.

Athos got back home very late but he was very interested in finding out how the visit with Alexei had gone. Thankfully Aramis appeared to be cheerful after seeing his friend.

“Yeah he's doing alright, isn't he, Aramis?” Porthos said as they sat the table to eat a very late dinner because they had politely waited for Athos.

Aramis nodded enthusiastically.

“The people he's staying with are nice, really nice,” Aramis confirmed although, as Athos was discovering, 'nice' was a term Aramis used for everyone.

“He's off heroin,” Porthos added. “'At least at the moment, so here's hoping for the best.”

“Is he going to stay with the couple who are putting him up?” Athos asked, genuinely curious as to who these people were that would take in a young, sex-worker, drug-addict like they had.

“Yeah for a bit I think,” Porthos explained. “They don't want Alexei to just end up on the streets again and fall back into his old ways. He umm...he wants to testify.”

“What?” Athos almost choked on his food. He had hoped Alexei would testify but he hadn't been entirely sure that the kid would have the courage to do it. “Are you sure?”

Porthos nodded. “Yeah, I didn't even mention it, he did. I think he has been talking to the couple about it. I said I'd phone them tomorrow and give them the lawyer's details so he can go and meet her.”

Well that was a surprise, a very nice one. Athos glanced over at Aramis to search for a reaction but Aramis was just busy tucking into his food. He knew that they probably shouldn't talk about it in front of Aramis in case Aramis got upset again but Athos just couldn't help himself, it was excellent news.

“Well that's...good. If Alexei can testify about Marsac owning the brothels and being his pimp that would really help.”

“He ain't gonna be the most reliable witness,” Porthos pointed out. “Ex-herion addict an' all but yeah, I agree. Every little helps. Think it's pretty brave of him actually. But he wants to do it so...”

Porthos shrugged. Athos didn't understand it either, Alexei had been very adamant about not liking the police before but that was a while ago and Alexei wasn't in a good place back then. Obviously this couple helping him and the fact he was off heroin had changed things.

“You know Charon really has done wonders for the community,” Athos said, more as an encouragement to Porthos than anything. Athos knew the story of Porthos' friendship with the Charon, which had started in the children's home but Charon had made some bad choices in his teens whereas Porthos had chosen a different path. But Porthos had stuck by Charon and, after Charon got out of jail, Athos knew that Porthos had played a big part in getting Charon back on the straight and narrow. Now Charon had his gym which was a hub of support for troubled youngsters. In fact the guy had become a bit of a community hero and Athos reckoned that Porthos should take some credit for that. Porthos beamed at Athos' praise.

“Yeah, I'm real proud of him. But he doesn't do it alone, he has a lot of support, like the couple who are helping Alexei. Sometimes in our job we see the worst of people, but there's a lot of good people who exist as well.”

Athos nodded his agreement but then turned his attention back to Aramis who had been quiet, just wanting to check that he was okay.

“So it was good to see Alexei doing well?”

Aramis nodded as he chewed his food but waited until he swallowed before speaking.

“Yeah. I know it's hard coming off drugs, most people just keep taking them. So I told him he was doing a good job, he just needs to keep going.”

“Good advice,” Athos said. He suspected that he didn't want to know the things Aramis had seen in his life-time thanks to the drug-addictions of those around him. The only good thing Marsac had ever done, as far as Athos was concerned, was stopping Aramis from taking anything.

“I'm glad you got to see him. So, what are your plans for tomorrow?”

Aramis sat up. “Oh, well, it'll be Tuesday...so...umm I'm seeing Ninon in the morning at 10'o'clock so I'll take Frodo out first. Then I might go to the library to help in the afternoon, then I'll take Frodo out again, then I'm working in the restaurant in the evening, I start at 6'o'clock.”

“Wow, busy day,” Athos pointed out and began to wonder if it might be 'too busy' but, before he had any proper time to contemplate Aramis' diary, Aramis continued to speak.

“Oh and I only have two weeks left of my medication and I know I'm meant to say when I'm close to running out so I can get some more.”

Athos was surprised that Aramis had brought it up. Reminding Aramis to take the damn things which still a bit of a battle so he decided to be encouraging.

“Yes, well remembered. I'll book an appointment at the doctors because he may want to see you again as he increased your dosage the last time. It has worked though, hasn't it? You've not had a fit for ages.”

“Nope,” Aramis smiled.

“Perhaps he'll give you more medication the next time so you won't have to go back for a while.”

Things felt normal, happy. Aramis spent the night in the spare room again but Athos didn't question it because Aramis seemed worried about the dog settling into the new apartment and the dog appeared to be sleeping in the spare room. Athos did slightly wish that his OCD would let him allow the dog to sleep in the main bedroom so they could all be together but not enough to consider mentioning it.

The next day at work Athos had a station meeting which he had to attend and was rather surprised to see a familiar face chatting to Porthos at his desk when he came out. Pauline, Pierre's wife-to-be, smiled sweetly at him as she stood up from a chair.

“Hello, Sergeant,” she said in her pleasant voice. Athos stood there mouth slightly agape with confusion.

“Umm...hello,” he eventually managed to say then desperately tried to think of something extra to add in order to be polite. “How are the wedding plans going?”

Her eyes lit up at the question. “Well! Thank you yes, very well. Still lots to do though so I'll...leave you to your work.” She turned back to Porthos. “Thank you again.”

Porthos smiled at her and stood up himself.

“I need to see you out. They don't just let people walk out of police-stations you know.”

She laughed at his comment as she put her coat over her arm and, in her other hand, appeared to be clutching a piece of paper. Athos watched them leave, desperately wanting to know what was going on.

“Why was she here?” He demanded the second Porthos returned. “Don't tell me she suddenly wants to testify as well?”

“No,” Porthos sat himself back down at his desk. “No such luck but it seems our visit got her thinking about her past again. She wanted to know if we could help her find Sophie, the madame at the brothel where she worked, the one that helped her sort of her life out.”

Athos pondered it for a moment but...well it seemed innocent enough and sort of made sense. Perhaps she wanted to thank Sophie for everything she had done.

“I assume you pointed out that using the police database for such purposes would be against our rules?”

“I absolutely did, Athos,” Porthos commented with a small smile which meant he was lying.

“So that piece of paper in her hand didn't have any details written on it?”

“Absolutely not, Athos. How would I find out about this woman of one name anyway? Why that would take a great detective to do such a thing.”

He wanted to be angry at Porthos but he just couldn't so he smirked at Porthos instead, such a liar, it was a good thing Porthos was so handsome.

“If she gets herself into trouble and her future husband sues you, I'll have no sympathy.”

That wiped the smile off Porthos' face.

Athos went to see Treville to offer their service for any new cases. There wasn't much more they could do with the abuse case until the prison visit with Vincent which meant they had the time to take on more work. Treville went through his pile of sensitive or unsolved crimes and found a missing sex-worker case which had been passed on from Vice. Athos was getting sick of missing people but he knew that it was something most other cops just couldn't put their time or resources into. Whereas their Special Unit had that luxury. So, whilst Athos didn't particularly think that searching for a missing sex-worker was what he and Porthos needed right now, he couldn't exactly explain why to Treville so offered to take the case. The woman in question had a two year old son after all, he deserved to have someone out there looking for her.

“Really?” Porthos asked, raising an eyebrow when Athos presented the case to him.

“I know, dead sex-workers isn't what we want to be thinking about right now but maybe we can find her.”

“How long has she been missing for?” Porthos asked which caused Athos to skim through the report.

“A friend who had her son at the time says she went missing...well it's four weeks ago now.”

His heart sunk. Four weeks was a long time for her to be missing.

“Just for fucks sake tell me she didn't work for Marsac.”

Athos continued to skim the file which Vice had produced during their initial investigation. Even though he understood that they couldn't spend their time looking for every prostitute which went missing it did frustrate him at how little it looked like they had even tried.

“No, it seems she was more..high-class. Five-star hotels sort of thing.”

“Oh...expensive...” Porthos commented. “Yeah, alright. Come on then, let's find out what happened to her and you never know, miracles happen.”

They went to a hotel where 'Lacey' had been arrested once after an altercation a year ago. The bar manager denied ever having high-class prostitutes in his establishment but agreed to hand-over security camera footage from the night she went missing, if they still had the recordings. He was generally very abrupt and unhelpful but Porthos managed to chat to a barman who had worked in the place for a while and the barman at least admitted that he recognised Lacey after being shown a photograph but he didn't think she had been in the hotel for a good few months at least so their search continued. The problem was there were lots of hotels in France and she could have worked in any of them. In fact she probably made it a habit of moving around often so that she wouldn't get noticed.

“This is going to be tricky,” Athos admitted with a sigh as they left another hotel.

“Yup,” Porthos concluded. “You know what we're gonna have to do, don't you?”

“What?” Athos asked as they got back into the car.

“We're gonna have to go undercover in the hotel bars and ask the other sex-workers if they know what happened to her.”

“You mean we need to look like bored, rich, businessmen sitting alone in a hotel bar in an attempt to try and be seduced by prostitutes?”

“Well you say we...”

“I'm not doing it.”

Porthos immediately burst out laughing.

“But you'd be so good at it!”

“No,” Athos grumbled.

“Come on, Athos, you'd be good at it. You have that whole sad, lonely look going for you, they'd be drawn to that.”

“I said no.”

Porthos was still laughing. “Come on. You know I can't do it, I don't have the same pathetic, businessman vibe about me and d'Artagnan would look about twelve in a suit. Treville won't give us anyone else on a case like this so it has to be you. Otherwise we'll have to call your ex-wife in Vice to get help.”

“No,” he grumbled. The last thing he wanted was to have to ask Anne for help. “I'll do it. But not tonight.”

“Not tonight,” Porthos agreed. “Tomorrow night would work though.”

And that's where Athos found himself the following night, in a five-star hotel wearing a suit and sipping a glass of water at a table pretending it was a gin and tonic. He didn't have to pretend very hard to look fed-up and bored, those two feelings were coming very naturally.

Porthos was in the hotel as well but keeping out of sight, it wasn't like Athos was going to be in danger but they had borrowed ear-pieces and radios for the job just in case so they could keep in contact. Now Athos just needed to attract a prostitute. He patted his jacket briefly, just checking to make sure that the picture of Lacey was still in the inside pocket. High-class sex-workers were very territorial but Athos was convinced that they'd help if they could.

“Bar, long blonde hair, silver earrings, in the black dress.”

Porthos said in Athos' ear so Athos glanced up and looked over. There was a young lady sitting by herself at the bar ordering a drink. Athos watched her for a while, but then another lady came over and joined her and they proceeded to greet each other like friends. Probably not then.

“There might not even be someone working the bar tonight,” Athos hissed into his watch which was where the microphone was hiding. “It seems quiet. Perhaps we should come back Friday or Saturday.”

“Hold your horses, cowboy,” Porthos said. “Give it another couple of hours.”

“And how much more fake alcohol will I have to drink in that time?” Athos asked.

“Oh just mope over the one you've got for a while longer. You're doing such a good job of that already.”

He heard Porthos snicker which caused Athos to roll his eyes. He sat there thinking about Aramis. Thinking that he'd much rather be at home with Aramis and Porthos than wasting his entire evening, sitting in a hotel bar with...

“Incoming,” Porthos said in his ear.

“Mind if I join you?”

Athos almost jumped out of his skin. He looked up and saw a lady looking down at him, holding a glass of wine. She must have been in her 40s, unnaturally bright red-hair and a red dress with a black jacket. She looked quite professional. He automatically wanted to decline her offer before remembering that he was working and was meant to be encouraging company.

“If you like,” he mumbled, still not wanting to sound overly keen.

“Here on business?” she asked, sitting herself down in a chair. Athos sat up so he could look at her properly.

“Yes, only for a couple of days. How about you?”

“Same, I live in Marseilles but my company have their main office in Paris so I have to come here once in a while.”

Either it was a cover story or this woman wasn't a sex-worker. Athos knew he had to probe a little bit more.

“What does your company do?”

She took a sip of her wine then wiped a droplet off the glass with her finger, before licking it off somewhat suggestively.

“We rent out equipment for concerts and big events, speakers, stages, that sort of thing.”

“Well that's...exciting,” Athos attempted to sound interested even though he wasn't at all.

“Yes, I get to know musicians like Zaz, Pink, Gwen Stefani I suppose...but I shouldn't name-drop.”

She smiled but Athos hadn't heard of any of them, although he suspected that he should act like he had. The problem was he was terrible at working undercover, acting was not his forte.

“Madonna?” he asked, because he had actually heard of her and whilst they seemed to be talking about people with silly names...it made the lady laugh.

“No, not yet. Would you like another drink?”

She nodded down at his water.

“Gin and tonic, is it?”

“Umm...” he didn't want a gin and tonic so had to quickly get out of it. “Actually I'm fine. But, would you like another wine?”

She had only just started her glass but it felt polite to ask.

“Already trying to get me drunk?” she said with a flirting-tone and a raised eyebrow. “Sure, why not? I'll have another red. You pick.”

Athos smiled at her.

“Then excuse me.”

He got up to head over to the bar. Whilst he was there, he pretended to scratch the side of his beard so he could talk to Porthos.

“I don't think she's what we want her to be.”

“Give it time,” Porthos suggested firmly. “You've only been speaking to her for two minutes! You know she has to make you horny first, they only tell you their charges once you're in the hotel-room.”

“I don't want it get that far!” Athos pointed out but then had to stop talking because the barman came over. He ordered the cheapest red wine they had and waited patiently. He briefly glanced over his shoulder at the lady who smiled across at him. He then thanked the barman for the order and carried the wine back to the table. She thanked him.

“So, what's your name, handsome?”

Athos paused to think about it which probably looked odd but he eventually came up with a fake name. “Gaspard.”

“You look scared to tell me,” she pointed out and had more of her wine. “Honey, I'm just someone here alone on business like you. I don't care if you're married or whatever. I don't even care if that's not your real name. Let's just have a good evening.”

Athos tried to 'have a good evening'. Thankfully the lady, who told him her name was Rachelle, liked to talk which saved Athos from having to and, the more she drank, the more she talked and the more she moved her chair closer and flirted. Athos was starting to conclude that she probably wasn't a prostitute though. Prostitutes usually wouldn't want to spend so much time talking, they would just want to get down to business and make money. However, Athos' experience of high-class prostitutes was limited, so he still couldn't be entirely sure. He hoped that Porthos was keeping an eye on the rest of the bar just in case.

At one point Rachelle reached out and placed her hand on Athos' leg. He didn't want it there but he couldn't exactly brush it off either.

“...he was just a boy though.” She was telling Athos about a toyboy she had a fling with right after her second divorce. “Not like you.”

Her hand moved up his leg underneath the table and she suddenly groped him. Receiving a squeeze between the legs shocked Athos so much that he jumped.

“...no you're quiet but it's the quiet ones they say to look out for. I bet you're incredible in bed. I get that sense about people."

I can assure you I'm not, Athos wanted to say but he was too shocked at the turn of events to really speak at all. She leaned across to him.

“Would you like to go to my room?” she whispered into his ear before nibbling his earlobe. Thankfully his earpiece was in his other ear, not that she would have probably noticed anyway.

“You're gonna have to find out if she charges sooner rather than later,” came Porthos' unhelpful advice in his ear. “We could just be wasting our time.”

Athos was at a loss. How could he find out if she was a sex-worker without completely insulting her? Athos felt completely out of his depth and, as she began to stroke the hair above his ear and wait for his answer, he had no-idea what to do. Then he remembered the photograph of Lacey in his pocket and decided to just go for it. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the photograph. Rachelle was so confused she pulled her hand away and leaned back.

“Do you know who she is?” Athos asked, showing the photo. Rachelle did look at it but then frowned.

“No...should I?”

“She's a local girl who has gone missing. I just wanted to check.”

Rachelle's bewilderment just continued. “No, I...I don't know who she is. Sorry. Why are you...”

“Nevermind,” Athos interrupted and put the photograph away, that was a waste of time then. He'd just spent an hour listening to someone who wasn't any help at all. Rachelle though just sighed.

“Gaspard, do you want to fuck or not?”

“Oh, no thank you,” Athos said, hoping he at least sounded polite. “You're lovely and everything but I'm actually more into men at the moment.” Well honesty was the best policy.

“Are you kidding me?!” She said sounding more exasperated than annoyed. “I usually pick up on those vibes. Oh well...” She sighed in defeat and leaned back in her chair looking around the bar. “I'll fight you for that one over there then.”

She nodded towards a handsome gray-haired man at the bar.

“You can have him,” Athos said, smiling a little with encouragement. Rachelle just chuckled and picked up her second half-drunk glass of wine.

“Thank you for the drink, handsome,” she said before leaving the table and heading off to the bar. Athos lifted his watch to his face.

“Well that was a waste of time,” he muttered into it.

“I don't know,” the voice of his boyfriend said over the ear-piece. “I gotta kinda turned-on watching you being seduced. I've got an erection the size of Everest in my pants right now.”

“I thought you were the jealous type?” Athos teased with a smile on his face, looking across the room at Porthos who was sitting beside the wall.

“I am,” Porthos said, smiling back at him. “That's why I want to fuck you real hard right now, to remind you that you're mine.”

And that's why they found themselves in the male restroom although Athos was entirely sure it was such a bright idea. They were both detectives, it wasn't very professional. However the cubicles were large and clean and, by the time Porthos was tugging open Athos' belt and tugging his trousers down, Athos was already half-erect.

“Are we really going to do this here?” Athos whispered, although no-one else was in the bathroom, he was still concerned about being caught. Did it turn him in? Yes, but the fear was there.

“I can't help it. I need to fuck you so badly,” Porthos growled. “Turn around.”

Athos did as he was told and then found himself being shoved forward, his underwear then yanked down forcefully. He had to reach for the wall and tried desperately hard not to think of the germs. It was clean though, clean and shiny and when a wet finger suddenly shoved up inside of him he cried out.

“Love, you're gonna have to try and control your noises,” came the chuckled from behind but the lubricated finger wiggled inside and was soon joined by a second.

“How do you even have...” Athos wanted to ask but he cut himself off when the fingers brushed over his prostate and he groaned.

“You know me, I'm always prepared for such eventualities as this and, love, shhh, you're gonna get us arrested.”

It was a terrible idea, completely crazy, if they got caught...Athos bit hard onto his bottom lip and tried to keep quiet but, after a few minutes of stretching, when Porthos' thick wet cock began to pierce his arse, he really couldn't help the whimper which came out. So Porthos reached around and placed his hand over Athos' mouth. It helped, his moans were muffled as Porthos pushed in inch by inch until his large member was filling Athos' arse. And there Porthos stayed, Athos feeling so delightfully stretched but in desperate need of movement. So he pushed his own hips forward and then impaled himself slowly back onto Porthos' thick erection. Then Porthos began to move, he slid in and out, slowly at first. Athos' fingers tried to dig into the wall to keep him standing.

“Fuck,” he hissed into Porthos' hand. Then Porthos began to pump his groin, back and forth, fucking Athos casually. The door of the bathroom opened at one point and footsteps came into the room but Porthos didn't stop, he continued to pound into Athos as they heard someone piss into a urinal and wash their hands. Someone was right outside the cubicle as Porthos fucked Athos in the arse and Athos, almost ashamed of himself, found it incredibly arousing; the fear of getting caught, the naughtiness of doing it in a public place, it was overwhelming.

When the person left again Porthos removed his hand from Athos' mouth.

“You're just gonna have to be quiet, love, I need to fuck you nice and hard right now.”

Porthos' hands were soon gripping onto Athos' hips and he pulled Athos back at the same time he thrust forward. Porthos went up inside Athos' arse so deeply that it shocked Athos at first and he gasped. Then Porthos did it again, and again, he was in so deep that it stretched and hurt but Athos didn't want him to stop and it wasn't long for the slight pain of being stretched became waves of pleasure each time Porthos pushed inside. Soon Porthos was in so deep that his balls were slapping against Athos and, when the door of the bathroom opened again and another man came in, Porthos had to stop but remained buried inside Athos. They both froze, Porthos' fingers gripped onto Athos' hips and Athos clinging onto the wall for dear life. This time the man used the cubicle next to them and Athos had to remain still, bent over, a huge dick buried in his arse. He tried not to pant or breathe too heavily as they waited patiently. The man seemed to spend forever in the cubicle next to them, Athos could hear him tapping on his phone.

Hurry up, Athos thought frantically, his arms were beginning to wobble. Porthos could obviously sense something was wrong because Athos was soon scooped up by Pothos' hands and pulled up so that he was standing. Porthos held Athos against his chest with his strong arms, he was soon rubbing his hands over Athos' shirt. Athos suspected that Porthos was trying to soothe him but, instead, the action of Porthos running his hands over Athos' chest just turned Athos on even more.

Thank heavens the man eventually finished his business, washed his hands and left. The second they heard the door close Porthos pushed Athos against the wall of the cubicle.

“Be loud for me, Athos, I don't care who hears anymore. You feel so damn incredible.”

Athos gripped onto the top of the cubicle and Porthos continued the assault on Athos' arse and Athos loved every single second of it. He gasped and whimpered as Porthos grunted, the banging of Porthos fucking him against the cubicle got louder as Porthos shoved harder.

“I don't care if anyone hears, I don't care if someone sees,” Porthos groaned. Athos knew he didn't mean it but the words made his head spin anyway.

So much so that it all it took was for Porthos to give Athos' cock two long tugs before he tensed, shivered and then came all over the cubicle wall with a long groan. Then Porthos continued to fuck Athos against the wall, shoving him up against his own mess, hammering in and out until he grunted, stilled and Athos felt hot, wet liquid shooting up inside. Once it was over they remained there frozen, only with their chests heaving in synchronization.

“God that was...” Porthos eventually panted.

“I know...” Athos concluded, barely able to catch his breath.

“I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself...”

Athos snorted. “Please do not apologise for that. I just...that was...”

Porthos chuckled from behind. “Yeah it was, but how we gonna walk out there and not look like we just had a good fuck in the toilets? You are, after all, a terrible actor.”

“You might have to carry me anyway,” Athos pointed out, his arse was aching and throbbing from the onslaught but in a way that felt utterly dirty and delightful.

“Yeah because that wouldn't draw any attention at all,” Porthos pointed out and then Athos found himself being turned around, he nearly fell over with his underwear and trousers down by his knees but Porthos caught him. He had a wicked look about it which caused Athos to raise a curious eyebrow.

“What?”

Porthos leaned forward and whispered into Athos' ear.

“How about you finally let Aramis fuck you when we get home? You're already nice and stretched and he's desperate to do it.”

Athos shivered.


	53. The Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [I reckon there's only a few chapters to go with this now, ahhh! Thank you everyone who has stuck with it]

Athos couldn't sit still in the car-seat. The realisation of what they had just done was beginning to sink in.

“Love, if your arse is going to need time to recover...” Porthos commented as he drove, obviously assuming that Athos' fidgeting was as a result of soreness.

“I'm fine,” Athos mumbled, even though he wasn't as his thoughts were on that toilet cubicle. It had looked clean, which is what you would expect from such an expensive hotel, but looking clean didn't mean that it was. It was probably actually covered in germs and now Athos, who had been pushed up against the wall of the cubicle, was probably covered in them as well.

“We can never do that ever again,” Athos pointed out in a serious voice because he really meant it.

“What...go undercover?”

“No!” Athos snapped. “Have sex somewhere public like that.”

“Why not?” Porthos asked.

“Because we're detectives, what if we had been caught?”

“Relax, everyone does it.”

“I don't care, we shouldn't do it. We have responsibilities, Porthos....”

“Athos,” Porthos interrupted. “Chill. You're right, it was crazy, we won't ever do it again.”

Athos was satisfied that Porthos was taking him seriously.

“It was pretty amazing though,” Porthos then added with a smirk.

Athos ignored him and looked down at his shirt which was creased and stained with his own semen. He wanted to rip it off, it was dirty, so dirty. Everything was dirty and germ-infested. He whimpered without meaning to and tugged at his shirt in frustration.

“What's the matter?” Porthos asked but Athos didn't respond. He began to scratch at his arm, rubbing furiously at his shirt sleeve, trying to get the germs off. He was going to get sick, he'd get sick and die and then Porthos and Aramis would catch it and die as well. He didn't want those two to suffer, he couldn't bear the thought of it.

“Athos, stop it.”

He scratched at the skin beneath his shirt but it didn't help. He was dirty all over. He wanted to rip his shirt off, just get it away from his skin and get the germs off him. So he tugged at his shirt and pulled at it.

“Athos...”

A hand reached across and grabbed his wrist, Porthos tugged his arm away from his clothes.

“...stop it, you're okay.”

But Athos still had an arm free, so he reached across and began to tear at the buttons of his shirt but they weren't coming off fast enough and Athos was getting into a panic. He couldn't breathe properly, he began to hyperventilate.

“Athos, calm down.”

“I n-need to get my shirt off, I h-have to get it off,” Athos explained, between sucking in as much air as he could. “I need to get my clothes off.”

His skin was just getting worse, he could feel his pores clogging up with the grime and germs. Soon he wouldn't be-able to breathe at all.

“We're almost home, alright? Ten more minutes and we'll be home. You'll be-able to get your clothes off and I'll get you into the shower. Just...calm down for me, okay?”

Porthos was rubbing Athos' hand with his thumb as he continued to pin it down. Athos looked down in horror.

“Don't do that! You shouldn't touch me!”

Now Porthos was going to get sick. He was going to have to watch Porthos get sick and die. He couldn't do that, not Porthos. His head snapped back against the head-rest, he was beginning to feel dizzy and pins and needles was starting in his fingers.

“I don't want to pull over,” Porthos pointed out. “I want to get you home quickly so you're gonna have to calm down. Take long deep breaths for me. Come on, we'll count together...”

Athos listened to Porthos' voice and tried to breath in as Porthos counted to five, then breathe out when he counted again. In through his nose, out through his mouth, in through his nose, out through his mouth...in through his nose...

After what felt like hours although, in reality, was probably no more than twenty minutes, Athos found himself in the apartment where a concerned looking Aramis was standing in front him. Aramis was still alive, it made Athos feel overwhelmed with relief.

“Why wouldn't I be alive?” Aramis asked baffled which equally confused Athos because he hadn't realised that he had spoken out loud. He was still dizzy and still covered in germs but they were in the en-suite bathroom and Porthos was undressing him. As every piece of clothing was pulled from his body it felt to Athos like ripping filthy skin away and it was a huge relief.

“What happened?” Aramis was firing off questions. “Did something bad happen? Did he accidentally drink again? Is he alright?”

Athos half heard Porthos trying to reassure Aramis but all Athos could do was concentrate on lifting his arms up when Porthos asked and stepping out of clothes when Porthos needed him to.

When the water began to hit his skin, falling from the sky like hot rain, it felt like heaven. Athos closed his eyes and buried his face underneath the spray. The water was washing it all away, he could feel the dirt peeling off and disappearing down the plug-hole. The air began to smell clean again and he finally managed to alleviate his tight chest with a pleasant lung-full of fresh oxygen.

Warm hands rubbed soap all over his body and he allowed himself to be tugged and turned around until he was washed all over. Then he was clean again, finally, nothing bad would happen to anyone anymore.

When strong fingers began to rub shampoo into his hair he blinked open his eyes and saw Aramis standing in front of him, naked, still cleaning him. Which must have meant that it was Porthos who was standing behind, massaging the shampoo in.

“I'm sorry,” Athos said quietly, now the panic attack had subsided it was replaced with an intense feeling of guilt. The sex had been amazing and now he had ruined it.

“Ain't nothing to be sorry for,” came the deep voice of Porthos from behind and, even though it sounded like Porthos really meant it, Athos couldn't shake the feeling of letting Porthos down. Porthos had really enjoyed what had happened in the hotel toilets and then Athos had a stupid panic attack. What an idiot, what a freak. One day Porthos would get fed-up with him and leave. Athos stared at Aramis who was still washing him with an intense look on his face and realised that Aramis would probably leave as well, he was closer to Porthos after all. Athos would lose them both.

“Are you feeling better?” Aramis asked. "You look upset."

“I'm sorry,” he repeated once more as the first had been aimed at Porthos but now he felt like he needed to apologise to Aramis as well. Poor Aramis had to witness Athos' nonsense too. Deal with it, cope with it, it wasn't fair on either of them.

“For what? Being you? That's the person we love,” Aramis pointed out as he reached for Athos' shoulders and gave them a reassuring squeeze. “Our brains just work differently, that's all. Don't you remember?”

Athos smiled at his sweetness and nodded in response before taking a step back when Porthos tugged him.

“Close your eyes,” Porthos warned before helping Athos tilt his head back to wash the shampoo out.

Once his hair was as clean as the rest of his body, his shame about it all was pressing even heavier on his mind. But he found himself staring at Aramis who standing there naked and wet and the sight began to distract him from his negative thoughts. He was the luckiest man on the planet. He had two wonderful men currently standing in a shower with him just to help calm him down. He didn't want them to leave. He wanted to keep them forever.

Athos took a step towards Aramis, nervous about if he was how he was going to be received but he needn't have worried as, after a brief look of confusion which crossed Aramis' face, his eyes soon closed and he welcomed the lips with gladness. Aramis' soft and gentle acceptance with moans of delight, were enough to fuel Athos on to show Aramis exactly how grateful he was. He kissed Aramis for a long time, lips darting over his, tongue teasing, fingers running through the wet curls. With his other hand he reached for Aramis' hip and he pulled the naked body close. The whole time Aramis made little whimpering and delighted noises.

He only pulled away to nibble on Aramis' neck, beneath the neat beard Aramis had been growing, Athos found a nice patch of skin which, when tongue made contact with it, just caused Aramis to groan even more. The warmth of Porthos' body pushed up against Athos from behind, it made him feel secure. Now everything felt better.

When he eventually lifted his head he stared at Aramis for a moment. The man was panting but his lips were curled up into a smile and Athos was soon joining him in the same expression of happiness.

“Aramis, I want you to make love to me.”

The smile vanished from Aramis' face and was replaced by slight bemusement.

“What...now?”

“Yes now. Definitely now.”

Aramis looked over Athos' shoulder, to Porthos he assumed, as if he was seeking permission. Athos couldn't see what Porthos did but, a moment later, Aramis practically threw himself at Athos who managed to catch him and the new kiss was far more frenzied and passionate, so Athos assumed that the answer was 'okay'.

He kissed Aramis back and wrapped his arms around the man who was shivering with excitement. As the kissing continued Athos felt warm hands massaging his arse-cheeks. Eventually a wet finger slipped easily inside. Athos knew that Porthos wouldn't have to spent much time preparing him considering his muscles were probably still stretched from an hour ago. But he let Porthos get on with it and focused on Aramis, who was still eagerly kissing him until Athos had to pull away from the kiss because Porthos had inserted more fingers.

“Oh you like that?” Porthos asked with a chuckle as Athos leaned forward, reaching out for Aramis as he began to rock his hips back and forth.

“Yes,” Athos whispered, he closed his eyes and was grateful when Aramis helped hold him up.

“You're nice and stretched,” Porthos commented, but continued to stroke his fingers up and down. Eventually he pulled them out and Athos groaned with frustration.

“Don't be like that,” Porthos said with a chuckle. “You're gonna get something better now.”

Athos was turned around until his hands found the cold tiles of the wall, his legs were gently being encouraged to open and then, before his brain even had time to catch up, shaking hands were on his hips and Aramis was pushing inside.

Aramis' cock wasn't as thick as Porthos' but it was still large and Athos could feel every inch of it. Aramis was being so gentle, taking it so slow. Athos gasped each time Aramis pushed in a little bit further.

“You feel good,” Athos groaned, wanting to encourage the man. Aramis' fingers gripped a little bit harder and he began to gently rock back and forth, sliding his cock up and down. Athos moaned again, he felt dizzy and was grateful to have the wall to hold onto.

“Athos...Athos...” Aramis was repeating the name in time to his gentle thrusts. Athos wanted it harder but he couldn't find the words to beg, so he just groaned and whined until Aramis began to pump a little faster. Then, strong arms grabbed him and he found himself standing up with Aramis' cock still buried inside. He blinked underneath the water and discovered Porthos' face right in front of him, holding him and smiling. Athos smiled back, Aramis was still pumping his cock into him, but now he was kissing Porthos. Porthos' kiss was strong and full of lust, his tongue fiercely piercing Athos' mouth.

Then Porthos pulled Athos' arms around his shoulders to Athos could stay on his feet and Porthos moved closer. He grabbed Athos' leaking erection and began to rub it against his own.

“Jesus,” Athos hissed. With Aramis smacking him forward from behind into Porthos' waiting hand where Porthos was rubbing their erections together, Athos could barely cope and his legs began to wobble. He had to cling onto Porthos just to stay upright. He heard Porthos chuckle for a moment before he began to grunt. Athos also heard gasps filling the shower as Aramis began to fuck him even harder, it took Athos a while to realise that he was the one making the noises.

“Aramis!” He cried out, his muscles were beginning to tighten as he built towards his orgasm. Aramis' hips were slapping loudly against his arse-cheeks and the cock was piercing deep inside him with each thrust.

He whimpered then, Porthos' was gripping more tightly and stroking more wildly and Athos couldn't hold back any longer, with a loud whine he orgasmed, shooting everything he had left over Porthos' hand. He immediately felt dizzy but Porthos grabbed him before he fell over.

“You two look so incredibly right now, god you have no-idea,” Porthos whispered into his ear.

Athos wished that he could see Aramis but instead he made do with feeling him. He bent himself over a to make it easier for Aramis, still holding into Porthos who was gripping onto his arm with one hand, Athos knew full well that the man was doing with his other hand. Now he could finally hear Aramis' little gasps the continuing whispers of 'Athos' as Aramis continued to pound into him at a steady speed. Aramis went on and on, Athos only knew that he was probably close when the thrusting began to get a little erratic. Now, with a little more control over his body, he managed to look his head and look back at him. He was greeted with a beautiful sight, Aramis had his eyes tightly closed and he was biting onto his bottom lip as he gripped onto Athos' hips as he fucked him. Athos could tell he was close.

“Come for me, Aramis,” he encouraged and that appeared to be all Aramis needed because he tensed, whimpered and then filled Athos up whilst stroking his cock deep inside of Athos' arse. Athos could feel it and he loved it.

“Fuck...oh fuck...” Porthos groaned and Athos remained where he was at Porthos furiously masturbated at the sight. “That was...fuck...” It wasn't long before Porthos groaned loudly and exploded all over the place.

Aramis came to bed with them that night which made Athos very happy indeed. The dog caused a bit of a fuss at first, whining outside of the bedroom door which meant that Aramis wasn't able to settle but Frodo eventually gave up and obviously went off somewhere to sleep. Aramis then managed to fall asleep himself curled up against Porthos.

Athos, despite being exhausted from all of the sex, found himself unable to switch his brain off. Aramis was seeing Anne the next day on his own and the trial was now only a few days away. On Friday Athos would be back in the prison visiting Vincent again and Lacey was also still missing. Athos struggled to stop worrying about it all and found himself tossing and turning for most of the night, only getting a couple of hours of sleep at best before the alarm clock woke him up with a shock.

As it turned out worrying about Aramis visiting with Anne had been unnecessary. Whilst Aramis had been very nervous about it at first, asking lots of questions before they dropped him off about why she wanted to see him again and what she would ask, when they went to pick him up a couple of hours later he appeared to be oddly calm about it all.

“What did she ask?” Athos queried curiously, looking over his shoulder to Aramis who was sitting in the back of the car.

“Just...we practised the questions she'll ask me in the court-room.”

“Okay, and did that go well?”

“I think so. I don't know. She told me that Marsac's lawyer could ask me anything, about my past...anything. She said that she'll stop him if he asks me something which he's not meant to.”

“How are you feeling about it, love?” Porthos asked.

“I don't know.” Athos was still looking back at Aramis and noticed him sink down into the car-seat. “I'm a bit worried I think but it doesn't matter.”

“What are you worried about? The questions?” Athos asked, although he did realise that it would be stranger if Aramis wasn't worried. It took a while for Aramis to answer.

“No...seeing Marsac again.”

“I know,” Porthos gave a nod. “That's gonna be hard. But we'll be there as well, okay? I'll be sitting in the court-room so you can always look at me if you get scared, okay?”

“Okay,” Aramis said and then didn't say a lot else.

Athos spent a lot of the afternoon in the police station bathroom washing his hands. The security camera footage from the hotel had been sent over by a courier and, when he wasn't in the bathroom, Athos spent his time looking through it but there were no signs of Lacey on the night she disappeared. The problem was there were plenty of hotels in Paris, hundreds even, and it would take days contacting each one to ask for security recordings, if they had even kept the footage, if they even had security cameras in the first place. There was only one thing for it, Athos got on the phone to Vice. His heart pounded as he waited to see who would answer. If it was his ex-wife...it wasn't, the voice on the other end was female but not her.

“Lacey, she went missing four weeks ago. You handed the case over to us,” Athos explained.

“Oh yes, yeah I remember,” Detective Belaire said over the phone.

“Well I don't suppose you have any information about which hotels she worked at, do you? It feels like I'm looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“You are looking for a needle in a haystack,” she confirmed. “But there's a few obvious hotels you could try, I'll email you a list over. Usually I'd expect a body to have appeared by now if she had been killed. I don't think she would have run away, not with her son. I'm glad someone is still looking.”

“The email would be appreciated,” Athos said, biting his tongue about how they should have kept looking but he knew resources were limited, money was tight and they were probably overwhelmed with work. It was the usual story. The constant cuts to the police budget to streamline the police-force were doing nothing but putting more stress onto those who hadn't had the sense to leave it yet. That's why Athos liked working for the Special Investigations Team. They had the freedom to take on the cases others had to leave behind, they could do the sensitive cases which others didn't have the time for and they could re-open cold cases which others had given up on. It was an interesting area to be working in. Athos appreciated Treville fighting to keep their small team going.

Detective Belaire was good to her promise and he soon had a list of seven hotels to check-out. He grabbed Porthos and they visited two that evening as Aramis would be busy working in the restaurant anyway. One of the managers actually admitted to recognising Lacey but couldn't be sure when she had last seen her. She appeared to be happy to send them their security camera footage from the night Lacey went missing. The second manager, Athos suspected, would have helped if he could but they only kept camera footage for two weeks. It still felt like they weren't getting very far but at least they were trying.

The next day Athos found himself at the place where he really didn't want to be, prison. D'Artagnan was with him, he had taken the sling off his arm in the car but Athos encouraged him to put it back on, thinking that perhaps it would amuse Vincent enough to get the man to interact with them again.

They sat at the table and waited for a frustrating long time for Vincent to be brought in. Long enough that Athos was just beginning to worry that Vincent was refusing to see them. But eventually the heavy metal door opened and Vincent was led in by a burly prison-guard. There was another man with him this time, a thin, balding man in a suit. They both sat down on the other side of the table, Vincent was attached to a bar underneath the table with a pair of handcuffs and the prison-guard pointed out the panic alarms on the room before leaving them to it. It was the balding man who spoke first.

“I'm Millard Duval and you will be addressing me with your questions not my client.”

“Fine,” Athos grunted but he then proceeded to completely ignore Duval and look straight at Vincent. “I was hoping we could continue the conversation we had the other week.”

“The conversation you never should have had with my client,” the lawyer interrupted.

“He agreed to meet us,” D'Artagnan pointed out sharply. Athos appreciated having d'Artagnan there, he wasn't afraid to say what needed to be said. Now that d'Artagnan had silenced the lawyer, Athos continued.

“I was hoping that you've had time to consider what we were talking about. Perhaps you now remember the names of the other men who also abused the children and you're prepared to help?”

Vincent just snorted and turned his face away, seemingly more interested in the blank wall. Athos knew that he needed to stay calm, getting annoyed was only going to cause tension between them.

“You took young boys to an apartment to meet the men. Why involve the other men?”

“You don't have to answer that,” his lawyer immediately said to Vincent even though Vincent appeared to be ignoring his lawyer just as much. “Do you actually have any evidence to back-up your claims, Detective?”

“Yes,” Athos lied. Although was it really a lie? They had both Aramis and Marsac, even though neither of them had been officially interviewed. Still, sometimes to push the truth to get a reaction was a good technique. “That's why I'm here. I'm giving your client a chance to make help us before we press any charges.”

The lawyer leaned over and whispered something into Vincent's ear but then neither of them said anything.

“So we can assume that Hector Lovitt was one of the men?” Athos asked. He knew he was taking a risk naming Hector, especially if it was true. There was a chance that Vincent could warn Hector that they were onto him but, as Treville had once said, all calls from prisons were monitored so that possibly could provide them with even more evidence. Athos watched Vincent's reaction closely after he mentioned the name, but Vincent didn't react at all.

“American property developer,” Athos continued on. “I've been told that you were close to him. His company gave your church a couple of generous charitable donations. You must remember that? And, in exchange, you took boys to one of his properties and let him do what he wanted with them. Was that the deal? Was it about money? Or do you just like to share?”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Vincent grumbled, the first words he had spoken since he had come into the room.

“But you knew him? You can't deny that. Even your old Bishop remembers your friendship with Hector.”

Vincent huffed again.

“My client...” the lawyer leaned forward. “...has already been found guilty of his crimes and is serving his time, if you want to charge him with anyone else then I suggest you...”

The lawyer was already annoying so Athos spoke over him.

“We'll get Hector, he'll be easy, but who was the third man? You're a child-abuser, Vincent, we all know that, but you were also once a Priest and I don't believe that you can become a Priest without a belief in God. Do you still believe in your God?”

“I don't have to justify my faith to you,” Vincent finally looked at Athos. His lawyer leaned across to whisper something to him again but Athos just spoke louder.

“Doesn't it play on your conscious that those two men could be still out there abusing children?”

Vincent leaned forward slightly to glare across at Athos.

“God is the only one who can punish people for their sins.”

“Well the law does as well,” Athos pointed out. “That's why you're in here.”

“The law gives justice and the law protects but God is the only judge.”

Athos wasn't sure if he wanted to get into a theological discussion about judgement and sin so paused before responding, trying to decide where he now wanted to take the conversation but d'Artagnan, who had mostly just been sitting beside Athos as a supportive alley, spoke up.

“So how do you think you're being judged right now? You're allowing those other men to continue sinning, you're allowing more children to be hurt. You might be in here which is stopping you from doing it but you haven't stopped abusing children really because you're still letting it to happen.”

“Not my problem,” Vincent responded gruffly which was all it took to get d'Artagnan annoyed.

“How is it not your problem?!” D'Artagnan yelled, a finger on his good arm prodding violently at the table. “You're letting it carry on by keeping the names of the other men from us. For once you could do the right thing and you're choosing not to. How is that not your problem? It's very much your problem!”

Athos' heart began beating faster with adrenaline, which he knew d'Artagnan was probably feeling as well. The difference being that Athos was more experienced at masking it than the youngster. He worried that he might have to step in and calm d'Artagnan down, however, there appeared to be no need as d'Artagnan sunk back into his chair and just frowned.

There was silence in the room for a while, Vincent was just staring at them and they stared straight back. Other than the odd glance Athos threw at the lawyer who had visible droplets of sweat gathering on his forehead.

“I was allowing the boys to do their penance,” Vincent finally spoke.

“Vincent,” his lawyer tried to interrupt. “You really shouldn't say anything further.”

“Penance?” D'Artagnan sounded disgusted. “You forced young boys to have sex with grown men as penance? That's not how it works, you should have made them repeat five hail Mary's and then sent them home to their mothers.”

Vincent didn't respond and when d'Artagnan audibly swore underneath his breath, Athos knew that he needed to step-in again and take over.

“Penance for what?” Athos asked. “Some of the boys were as young as eight or nine. What sins had they committed?” He thought of Aramis, he thought of how kind and gentle Aramis was as an adult, he could only imagine how sweet and innocent Aramis had been as a child. It made him want to scream at the man sitting in front of him but he held it all in, pushing his fury down, trying desperately to keep things controlled.

“Not always their sins, sometimes the sins of their parents.”

“How is that fair?”

“Keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty; visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children, and upon the children's children, unto the third and to the fourth generations,” Vincent quoted and the blood inside Athos began to boil.

“But doesn't your Bible also say that the soul of the one who sins is the one who dies. And that sons don't share the guilt of their fathers nor fathers the guilt of their sons. And that righteousness and wickedness will only be upon the person who is righteous or the person who is wicked?” Athos knew his Bible as well, he had been sent to a private Catholic school after all.

Vincent went silent again.

“They were children, Vincent, innocent children,” Athos finally said calmly when he began to have enough of the whole interview which was swiftly getting no-where. They weren't there to have a theological debate, they were there to get a name.

“Some of them weren't so innocent,” Vincent muttered.

Those six words really made Athos finally lose it.

“Really? The ones who were in your programmes you mean? The naughty boys who had trouble at school? Those would be the ones who got bored in their lessons or had attention problems. The ones who didn't like authority or played too many practical jokes. None of them were evil, none of them deserved what you did to them. They were children, they couldn't consent. And what about the other boys?” Athos began to think of Aramis again. “The ones from your church? The well-behaved alter boys. How were they not innocent? They just did what they were told because they wanted to please you and please God and you took advantage of your authority over them. It's nothing to do with the sins of their parents, you saw little boys who had no say in the matter and then you used your position in the church to satisfy your selfish, power-hungry sexual desires and, what's more, you gave them to other men so they could do the same thing all for a bit of fucking money!”

“It wasn't just for the money!” Vincent yelled back, raising his voice to match Athos' but the words made Athos suddenly freeze and they both found themselves breathing heavily and staring at each other in shock. Athos was surprised that Vincent had just come out and admitted it and Vincent appeared to be just as startled by his own words. Athos wanted to ask why else he had done it but...did he actually want to know? Was it important or was he just trying to satisfying his own personal need to try and get his head around it all?

“You won't get him,” came the now defeated voice of Vincent.

“Hector Lovitt?” Athos asked, trying to match his own tone to the new mood in the mood.

“No, the other one you're looking for, you won't be-able to arrest him.”

“Why?”

“Because he's dead.”

The words felt like a punch to Athos' gut. Dead? No, that wasn't possible. The third man couldn't be dead. That would have occurred to Athos by now but he hadn't even considered it to be an option.

“When did he die?” D'Artagnan asked quietly.

“Years ago,” Vincent explained and then didn't say much more.

“Go on,” Athos encouraged and hoped that the lawyer wouldn't interrupt. Thankfully the lawyer was just sitting there looking pale, long since having given up trying to tell Vincent what to do.

“Some of your so-called innocent boys tracked him down and blackmailed him,” Vincent continued. “He handed the money over then got worried that his wife would notice the missing money from their account. He then began to panic that the boys, even though they had the money, would still go to the media and sell their stories to get more. He knew that it would be the end of him if they did that, it would have been huge. He worked high up government, it would have been a bigger story than mine. He had thought that he was invincible but in that moment he realised that he wasn't. So he hung himself in his garage. The media decided he had money troubles, someone in his political party spun a story about a gambling habit and no-one looked into it any further.”

Athos didn't know what to say. The story was believable but he just didn't want to believe it. He wanted to get the man who had abused Aramis, he had to get him.

“You promise that's true?” Athos asked, hoping that it wasn't.

“Why would I lie?” Vincent asked, looking almost confused. He had a point. He had now all but admitted that he was sharing boys with other pedophiles, why would he lie about the third man?

Well there was one good thing about the third man being dead, Athos slowly began to realise, it meant that he wasn't hurting children and that was something at least.

“Will you help us get Hector?” Athos thought it was worth a try. They had broken through a barrier with Vincent so now was the time to ask.

Vincent appeared to think about it for a while before turning to his very quiet lawyer.

“Will it shorten my sentence?”

The lawyer slowly shook his head and found his voice again.

“N-no. You admit to soliciting children, it'll add to your sentence. But helping the investigation may mean you may get less added on than the maximum.”

Vincent grimaced. “But I've already got life...”

“You got life with a minimum of fifteen years, you're close to getting out.”

“So if I help I'll be in for longer?”

“A lot longer.”

“And if I don't help?”

“Then it'll depends if they gather enough evidence to convict you. Your admission today hasn't helped. We should talk about this in private.”

Vincent looked thoughtful once more and Athos waited patiently. Surely he'd do the right thing now, after all of this, he would see sense and know that he could finally make some right out of all the wrong. Eventually Vincent turned back to them.

“Sorry, lads, you're on your own.”

And, with that, Vincent yelled for the guard who came in promptly and untied Vincent from the table.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” D'Artagnan yelled and stood up. Athos reached for d'Artagnan's arm to try and calm him down but it was pointless.

“You have got to be kidding me!” D'Artagnan shouted across the room. “You're not going to help, you sick bastard?!”

Even the lawyer looked sheepish as he stood up and followed Victor out.

“...It's bad enough you abused them but then you took them to be abused by other men and now you're not even going to help? How do you live with yourself?”

“'D'Artagnan!” Athos snapped and grabbed d'Artagnan's arm not even thinking about the fact it was his bad one until d'Artagnan yelped in pain and fell back onto the chair. Vincent never even looked back as he left the room.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Athos,” d'Artagnan then whispered and Athos turned to him. His head was hanging down in shame. Athos reached out and gave his good shoulder a squeeze. “I lost my temper, I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologise, that was difficult for both of us, we both lost it at times,” Athos pointed out. “It's hard when you're close to a case.”

D'Artagnan nodded.

“It must have been even harder for you though, I'm sorry. Do you think it's true? Do you think this third man is really dead?”

Athos sat back in the uncomfortable plastic chair. He really didn't know what to think anymore, he didn't know if he wanted it to be true or not.

“It should be easy to find out. A member of government killing himself in the garage, I suspect around the time Marsac came into the money he used to rent the buildings for his three brothels.”

“You think Marsac was one of the ones who blackmailed him?” d'Artagnan asked.

“Yes, I suspect so. I have been wondering where he got the sudden surge of money from. It was a strange thing to use the money for but I do believe, like Aramis seems to, that Marsac meant well in his own way at first. He thought he was helping people get off the streets by giving them a safe environment to work.”

“Yeah,” d'Artagnan agreed. “Until he started turning into a monster himself. Started controlling people with drugs, using violence...”

“Sometimes people turn into the very thing they're running away from...” Athos mused, turning to look at the door which Vincent had walked out of.

Athos just wanted to go straight home after the meeting with Vincent. He wanted to tell Porthos what had happened and apologise to Aramis for something he wouldn't be-able to explain to him. But, most of all, he wanted to be where Porthos and Aramis were and everything would feel wonderful.

However, his expectations of coming back to a happy home where shattered the moment he stood outside the apartment door and heard raised voices. It made Athos search for his key faster and turn it even more briskly. When he opened up the door Porthos' voice just increased in volume.

"...what part of that don't you understand? You tell me, because I'm running out of ways to explain it to you!"

They were both there, Porthos and Aramis, standing in the living-room facing each other. Aramis looked upset, his eyes glistened with tears. He was clutching something tightly in his hand.

"Go on, tell me! Because I don't know which part is complicated."

Athos had absolutely no-idea what was going on but Porthos was clearly annoyed about something and that was a rare enough occurrence to make Athos worry.

"What's going on?" Athos asked, keen to know what had created the situation. Aramis and Porthos were usually the pair in their threesome who never argued or fell-out.

"You really don't want to know,” Porthos eventually grumbled.

"What happened?" Athos requested once more but Porthos, instead of explaining, marched over to the coat-rack.

"I need to head out and cool off.”

Athos watched as Porthos slipped on his jacket, opened the door and promptly disappeared. After the slam of the door the room fell silent and Athos slowly turned back to Aramis who finally lost it, let go of whatever was in his hand and ran out of the living-room. Athos sighed and stepped forward as he witnessed strips of paper floating to the rug. Moving even closer he quickly observed that it was money which had been in Aramis' hand, ten and twenty euro notes.

With his curiosity peeked and empathy in gear, Athos followed Aramis out of the room and went in search of him.

Frodo raced ahead of Athos and immediately nosed open the door of the spare-room off in search of Aramis. Athos just followed the dog, trusting its nose. They found Aramis in his now usual upset spot around the other side of the bed sitting on the floor. His face was buried in his arms which were resting on his knees, Frodo was trying to nudge him to get his attention.

Athos didn't say anything. He sank himself down onto the carpet, too tired, confused and mentally exhausted to even care about dog-hairs. He had barely settled against the bed-frame when Aramis flung himself at Athos. In a tangle of arms, Athos held the crying man and tried to comfort him as best he could.

"It's okay," he promised. Whatever Porthos was upset about, it was still Porthos and Porthos never remained upset for long.

"You're alright," Athos whispered once more, stroking the thick curls which had nestled beneath his chin. "Aramis, what happened?"

Mumbles came from down below, words muffled against his chest, so he tried to pull away so he could look down at Aramis.

"Aramis, I can't hear what you're saying, look up at me."

Aramis did and Athos' heart broke. Aramis looked so distressed, tears were streaming down his cheeks from his sore red eyes. Words spilled out without Aramis even taking a breath.

"I thought it was a lot of money, more money that I'd usually get, so I thought I should, I knew I shouldn't turn it down, and I wanted to give it to you because this apartment is expensive but Porthos didn't want it and got angry and I didn't mean to make him angry..."

"Aramis, slow down, you're talking too quickly. What made Porthos angry?"

Aramis at least paused to sniff before he spoke.

"The money."

"The money you had in your hand?"

Aramis nodded.

"Was it money you had earned?"

Aramis nodded once more.

"Then I don't understand," Athos admitted because it didn't make sense, Porthos wouldn't have gotten that upset over Aramis wanting to give them some of his earnings. "The money you got from working at the restaurant?"

Aramis then shook his head and sunk back, moving slightly away which Athos suspected wasn't a good sign. Athos paused to think for a moment. Aramis had been at the library today, but that was meant to be as a volunteer although, if they had paid Aramis to be kind, that still didn't explain Porthos' reaction.

"Who gave you the money?" Athos asked and then, patiently as he could, waited for an answer as he watched Aramis wipe his tears away with the sleeve of his sweater.

"Jules."

The answer didn't help Athos very much.

"And who is Jules?"

"One of my clients."

Oh. Athos should have known. Now he understood why Porthos had been so upset.

"Why did he give you money?"

Aramis didn't reply straight away, he just stared at Athos for a few seconds before words just tumbled out ouf his mouth once again.

"I said I didn't do it anymore but he offered me two-hundred euros, Athos, two hundred, that's so much money and I didn't want anyone to be mad if I turned it down and he said that we didn't even have to go very far so it wouldn't take long and..."

"Aramis," Athos had to interrupt, picking up on something Aramis had just said. "Who would have gotten mad at you if you had turned it down?"

"Mar..." As quickly as the word came to Aramis' mouth it disappeared again. Then they both sat there in silence for a moment, Athos was surprised at how quickly Marsac's name still came to Aramis. Like he was still working for him, like he was still back there in that situation.

"Aramis, you don't have to worry about Marsac anymore, remember? Marsac is in jail. Is Marsac why you...made money from Jules?"

Athos was annoyed, of course he was, the thought of Aramis having sex with one of his old clients made Athos feel hurt and frustrated at Aramis but he wasn't going to show it. He couldn't show it. Porthos had already been gotten upset with Aramis, how would it help if they both did? And it wasn't Aramis' fault, not really. Having just spent time sitting in front of the man who had made Aramis believe from such a young age that his body belonged to other people, how could Athos be mad at him? Aramis was such a good person, he just still didn't seem to understand.

"No I...I thought it was a lot of money. I never...I mean back in brothel...well it's a lot of money for a quick one and he was quick."

"Oh I see," Athos nodded. "You gave him a blow-job?"

Aramis shook his head from side-to-side. "No, he fucked me."

Athos couldn't help but flinch as that was worse than he had been imagining and, unfortunately, Aramis noticed.

"You're angry too?" he whispered.

"I suppose, a little," Athos admitted because what was the point in lying? It was better to be honest with Aramis and help him understand. "We spoke to you before about how we'd prefer that you didn't have sex with other people now you're with us and about how you don't have to if you don't want to."

"Even if they give me two hundred euros?"

"Aramis, even if they give you two thousand euros."

Aramis actually gasped in shock.

"But, Athos, that's a lot of money."

"I know it is," Athos concurred. "And to you it probably especially feels so but you're special, Aramis, and your body is special and you don't need to let people do whatever they want to it for money anymore. We have tried explaining that to you. Porthos was just upset because you don't seem to understand and he loves you very much and doesn't want to see you being used and hurt anymore."

"But I didn't get hurt. He was quick and he didn't hurt me."

"I know but there are different types of being hurt, there's being hurt emotionally as well as physically. And you have been hurt before and you know about other people who got hurt...terribly hurt. Do you remember those pictures I showed you of the young man who was murdered down the alleyway?"

Aramis nodded solemnly.

"And you got sick, didn't you, remember? You had an STI. So, do you understand? We love you and we don't want you to get hurt and we also want you to realise how special you are and how your body...well you have every right to do what you like with it. No-one owns it apart from you. You shouldn't sell it to people for money or any other reason."

"But I want to help."

"And you already are. You have a job, Aramis, it's not like you sit around doing nothing all the time although, right now, if you wanted to do that it would be perfectly fine with us. We love you, which means we care about you. That's about far more than just money.”

Aramis turned away and stared down at the carpet. Athos wished that he knew how to help it make sense to Aramis. They had tried to explain it over and over but it still didn't seem to be sinking in.

“I don't like Porthos being upset with me,” Aramis then said before the tears returned. Athos leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Aramis again. Perhaps providing comfort was enough for the moment, Aramis was clearly very troubled about the fact he had fallen out with Porthos and that was probably all he was really thinking about.

“I know,” he whispered. It reminded him of the days when he was struggling with his alcohol addiction and the worst thing about it was the feeling of letting Porthos down each time he fell off the wagon and drank again.

“Porthos will be back soon, he just needed to get out of the house for a bit,” Athos explained as Aramis cried. “Even Porthos is human and you probably just shocked him, that's all.”

Athos didn't rush Aramis. He just sat with him until Aramis began to calm down. Then Athos asked if Aramis would like to share a bath. Athos wanted to get Aramis clean and wash the other man off him.

Aramis didn't seem to mind, he appeared to quite like the idea of having a bath with Athos. So they were soon in the family bathroom slipping into the water and bubbles. The tub wasn't really designed for two grown men but they made it work by sitting on opposite ends and tangling their legs together. Aramis at least wasn't looking as forlorn as he had been a little while before. He even sighed with contentment when he slipped into the hot water and rested his head back.

Athos watched him, knowing that they still had a long road ahead with Aramis. Still, Aramis was doing well. Today was...a slip-up and Aramis had meant well in his own way. The reality was that Aramis hadn't even begun to deal with the abuse he had suffered. Athos knew that it would be a long journey of patience, understanding and healing but it would be one worth taking together to help him.

To help himself, Athos imagined the soap in the water cleaning the other man's scent off Aramis' skin.

“Athos?” Aramis called after they had been silent for a while.

“Mmm?” Athos responded, he was lying back himself with his eyes closed and just enjoying the moment.

“Tell me the story again of how you and Porthos fell in love.”

Athos smiled. They had told Aramis the story before but he didn't mind telling Aramis again, the man seemed to enjoy hearing it.

“The story about me waking up with a killer hangover with Porthos holding me?”

“Yes,” Aramis requested. “And what happened after that, when you kissed him and how you fell in love.”

Athos indulged Aramis by telling him the story once more, trying to put as many details in it as possible as it seemed to make Aramis happy listening to it.

Thankfully Porthos didn't stay away for too long. By the time they were out of the bath and Athos had put a couple of pizzas into the oven, Porthos had returned and was looking tearful. Aramis slowly rose from the dining-room chair when he noticed Porthos come in but he didn't even get the chance to move before Porthos raced towards him and they both embraced each other tightly.

“I'm so sorry,” Porthos whispered, gripping onto Aramis for dear life. “I'm sorry, mate, it's not your fault.”

They held each other and squeezed each other until Porthos pulled away and cupped Aramis' face in both of his hands.

“I love you. I didn't mean to get annoyed. It's just that I love you and...”

“I know, Athos explained it to me.”

Porthos glanced over at Athos then and gave him a soft smile before turning back to look at Aramis.

“So you understand?”

“Yes, I'm not going to have sex with anyone else anymore. Especially not for money, not even if they offer me two thousand euros because I don't want you to worry about me getting hurt.”

And because I realise that my body is special and I'm special and I shouldn't let people use me...Athos added in his head but that part didn't come out of Aramis' mouth but, still, they were getting there. Aramis was getting there.

“I do worry about you,” Porthos confirmed. “Because I love you.”

Porthos hugged him again and Aramis disappeared into Porthos' arms.


	54. The Hospital

“On a scale of one to ten, how much of an arse was I?” Porthos asked the following morning, sounding forlorn as he sat at his desk.

Athos could barely see him over the top of their computer screens so moved his chair to the side to get a better view. Athos had been busy searching for members of the government who had committed suicide in a garage to try and discover the identity of Aramis' third abuser, but reassuring Porthos suddenly felt just as important. Especially when Porthos looked so pathetic.

“Porthos, zero, you weren't an _arse_ at all.”

His words, however, didn't appear to make much difference. Porthos just sighed and continued to pout.

“I got so annoyed with him that I stormed out.”

Athos knew very well what had happened, he had been there, but he continued to his attempts at trying to make his boyfriend feel better.

“Which was perfectly understandable. I would have done the same thing...”

“But you didn't,” Porthos interrupted.

“No...” Athos hesitated, knowing that he needed to choose his words carefully. “...because you had already done it and I didn't see the point in leaving Aramis alone in the house. But you had every right to be upset, he knows we don't want him doing it, yet he did it anyway.”

Athos was trying not to say anything which might encourage curious ears to listen. The police-station was busy, he didn't want anyone overhearing.

“Yeah but he just doesn't understand. His whole life he has been told the opposite of what we're telling him now, it must be really confusing for him and so easy to fall back into his old habits. I should have been more patient.”

Porthos was right about the first part, but not the second. Porthos was one of the most patient people Athos knew and he wasn't going to let the man continue to beat himself up about the fact he had acted like a normal human-being.

“If it helps you feel better, the fact he saw you get upset probably helped. I get upset with him all of the time, he's used to that but you...he was far more distressed by the fact he had fallen out with you than anything else...”

“Well now I feel like shit.”

“...wait...” Athos had to continue. “I mean that, if he doesn't go off and do it again because he doesn't want to upset you, well that helps. It'll keep him safe at least.”

“Yeah...I guess.”

“Anyway, we shouldn't talk about it here,” Athos pointed out, eyes briefly darting around just to check no-one was listening in but everyone seemed to be busy and wasn't paying either of them much attention.

“Come over here and help me look,” Athos then suggested in an attempt to distract Porthos. Porthos skidded around on his chair and sat beside Athos so they could see his computer-screen together.

As it turned out there weren't that many high-profiled members of government who had committed suicide, which surprised Athos considering it must have been a very stressful job. Pierre Bérégovoy, 111th French Prime Minister, was the most famous but he had killed himself in 1993 which was far too early for who they were looking for. Boris Fraenkel had jumped into the Seine, Jean-Marie Demange had shot himself after murdering his mistress. Jean Germain had killed himself in his garage but that was too recent. The only one which seemed to fit all of the criteria was François Rodin, ex-minister of Education. He had been found dead in his garage around the time Aramis would have been in his early 20s which was also when Marsac had miraculously come into enough money to start renting three large properties in central Paris.

Therefore, if the man was Rodin, it made sense that Marsac had probably been of the 'boys' involved in the blackmailing. Although why Marsac then used his share of the money to start brothels instead of using it to make a better life for himself, Athos couldn't fathom but then Marsac was a very messed-up man.

Athos stared at the photograph of Rodin for a while. The suspect had a young face but premature gray hair which Athos suspected he didn't dye in order to make himself look older and more refined. His eyes were very dark and he sported a slightly upturned nose. He looked like he oozed charisma and charm, like a lot of politicians did. Apart from that, he looked like a normal man, a hard-working ambitious man who probably had a beautiful wife and beautiful children. Yet this could have been one of the men who had raped little boys and terrified Aramis so much that he had thrown up.

“You believe Vincent?” Porthos asked as they continued to stare at the picture together and Athos thought about it. It would have been an odd thing for Vincent to have lied about unless Vincent was trying to stop them from finding the real abuser. But it had seemed very genuine at the time and Vincent had made no effort to put them off the scent of Hector Lovitt so he obviously wasn't worried about the truth being discovered, he had just been concerned about saving his own skin.

“...I'm not saying we should assume it was Rodin and forget all about it investigating further because he's dead. We need to find out if it was him. Talking to Marsac once his trial is over is still an option.”

“I don't think Marsac will be as forthcoming as you think,” Porthos pointed out. “Especially if we manage to get him banged up. Why would he suddenly want to help the cops?”

“Because...justice?” Athos offered rather halfheartedly but then put some more thought into it. “If Marsac _was_ involved in blackmailing Rodin then why would he be okay with Hector Lovitt getting away with it? This vigilantly blackmailing group probably couldn't get to Lovitt because Lovitt ran back to America. Rodin would have been an easier target, he was still in France and probably all over the TV because of his position as the Minister of Education.”

“I guess,” Porthos thought. “But I still don't think Marsac will want to help the police and we can't just go in there throwing Lovitt's name about. What if that encourages Marsac to deal with it himself? He might be in jail but he still has contacts. Gilles is roaming free.”

“It's all we've got,” Athos pointed out. “Apart from Aramis.”

Porthos frowned at that, seemingly about as keen as Athos to go down the Aramis route.

“I'll keep working on getting names of the other boys in Vincent's programmes,” Porthos offered. “Then maybe we can avoid having to use Marsac or Aramis.”

“Alright,” Athos said. “You do that whilst I continue the search for Lacey.”

So that's what they did. Athos sat in the 'Tech Room' with one of the technical team and, together, they went through all the security footage the hotels had sent over for the night Lacey had disappeared. Frustratingly, after hours of looking, they couldn't see any sign of her. Porthos also didn't have a lot of luck with his search. He managed to get a list of every child who had attended the two schools which used Vincent's programme to help badly behaved children in the years it was running, but the list contained thousands of names. Still, it was a start.

On Thursday, with just a week and four days go go until the trial, the three of them found themselves in Ninon's room for their weekly counselling session. Athos suspected that they'd be talking about the trial but, instead, Ninon brought something else up.

“Aramis and I spoke the other day about how Aramis had...” She appeared to pause for a moment, perhaps trying to find the right word. “...prostituted himself out for money and that it had upset you both. So Aramis and I talked about that, didn't we, Aramis?”

Aramis nodded.

“And we spent a lot of time discussing why you had all been upset,” Ninon continued. “But then Aramis said something which we then reflected on for the rest of the session. It was such a powerful thing which Aramis said that I suggested that we share it with you both. Aramis, are you still comfortable with that?”

Aramis gave another nod although he then began to act nervous. He sat on his hands and his leg started to bounce. Athos pretended not to notice, not wanting to draw attention to it, so he turned back to look at Ninon.

“Aramis expressed to me how pleased he is that you two don't want him to have sex with other people.”

Athos then couldn't help but stare at Aramis. Pleased? That was new. Although, if he was pleased, then why did he keep doing it?

“So I asked him if he wanted to have sex with you two, or if he'd rather not do that either if he was being very honest,” Ninon continued and Athos' chest suddenly began to tighten in anxiety. What if Aramis really only did it to make them happy? What if he didn't even want to have sex with them at all? Aramis always seemed so keen to have sex but then he would be keen, wouldn't he? Because he liked making them happy and he liked the attention. But what if it wasn't what he wanted after all? Had Aramis finally been honest about it? Had it all just been for attention? Maybe he didn't even like them, not deep-down.

No, stop it, Athos told himself, knowing he was being ridiculous. Aramis did like them. His frantic thoughts were thankfully interrupted by Ninon.

“And he said...Aramis, do you remember what you said?”

Aramis nodded, swallowed and leaned forward in his chair.

“I said I did because w-when I have sex with you two, it makes me feel funny on the inside...in a good way.”

Ninon smiled encouraging at Aramis and Porthos, who was sitting on the other side of Aramis as always, chewed on his bottom lip in the way he always did when he was getting emotional. Athos, however, was too busy analyzing what that meant. Funny on the inside? Was that Aramis' description of love or confusion?

“So then we thought of words to describe that funny feeling didn't we, Aramis? And we came up with things like loved, wanted, important...really positive words.”

Athos finally began to relax. It was reassuring to know that they were making Aramis feel those things. He hadn't realised that he had been scratching his hand until his skin began to burn so he stopped and rubbed his hands together instead, hoping that no-one had noticed. Porthos finally let out a pained sob noise, clearly feeling overwhelmed about the whole thing and Porthos could never hide his emotions.

“It's okay, Porthos,” Ninon reassured him. “I know it's quite something to hear it. That's why I told Aramis it was important that we share it with you, because I don't know how much he tells you at home.”

Porthos nodded, his face all scrunched up, in a vain and clearly unsuccessful attempt to stop himself from crying.

“Porthos?” Aramis, obviously concerned, reached out to touch Porthos' leg. Porthos immediately caught his hand, brought it up to his lips and gave it a kiss.

“It's okay, mate, I'm happy, that's why I'm crying. I'm happy that you get those feelings with us.”

Ninon allowed a silence to linger in the room for a little while before she regained their attention.

“So, the next stage is to help Aramis know what to do in situations where he might struggle. For example, if he comes across one of his clients again or someone tries to seduce him. We need to help empower Aramis to be-able to stay in control in those situations. Do you understand what I mean by that, Aramis?”

Aramis looked a little confused but eventually nodded.

“Alright, well let's talk about what happened this week and how, if you came across that situation again in future, what you could do...”

So they talked for the rest of the session about all the ways Aramis could say no or remove himself from the situation. Also they managed to convince Aramis that it was perfectly fine to call Porthos and Athos if he needed them to come and get him.

It broke Athos in some ways, the fact they were having to sit in a room and explain to a grown man that he had the power to say no. It was something Aramis should have been taught a long time ago. Yet, as the session went on, Athos watched the change in Aramis' body-language. His leg stopped bouncing, he began to sit up straighter and he became more engaged in the conversation. His confidence was visibly growing just in the short time they spent in the room.

By the time their session had finished, Aramis looked like he was ready to take on the world. Athos was pleased although he knew that deciding how to react to something whilst sitting in a safe environment was very different to actually doing in real-life, but still, the fact that Aramis had sat there and agreed to try was something.

In the days leading up to the court date everything became very tense. Aramis grew increasingly quiet and Athos began increasingly stressed. Athos made a few phone-calls to Anne who at least inserted a bit of positivity into the situation. She seemed pretty confident that all of the evidence would lead to a conviction. Athos, however, who had been working in the justice system for a long time and was also probably more of a realist, knew that nothing was guaranteed.

In their next session with Ninon they did actually talk about the court-case and their nerves and how they'd all cope with either verdict. It was a helpful session but they didn't have the time to really come up with any answers and Aramis appeared to be even more distressed afterwards. Porthos suggested that Aramis skip work that day so they could cuddle up on the sofa together. Porthos then spent the whole evening being perfect and talking to Aramis gently about all sorts of things as Aramis sat there curled up on Porthos' lap. Athos watched them both and pondered, not for the first time, if they were doing the right thing encouraging Aramis to give evidence but it felt too late to back out of it now and Aramis had chosen to do it.

Despite their lack of focus at work in the lead up to the trial Porthos, by some miracle, had a major break-through with the child-abuse case. A teacher, having heard about Porthos' visit to one of the schools, had come to the police station. He remembered the church programme for troubled boys. He had even put forward badly behaved boys to be a part of it. At the time he thought that the programme designed to support and encourage the boys to care about their future was a brilliant idea and was pleased when the programme appeared to produce some positive results. Many of the boys did start to behave better in school as a result of the extra attention they were getting...or so the teacher had thought at the time.

However, when Father Vincent was arrested for abusing altar boys a few years later, the teacher suddenly realised that there might have been a more sinister reason behind the change in behaviour of the boys. But his concerns had been brushed off by the school-head and school council. He had just been told that the police would be looking into it but now the boys involved were grown men and no longer at the school, there was nothing they could do.

The teacher felt at the time that they were trying to cover it up so that the school wouldn't get into trouble but knew that he was somewhat powerless to do anything about it. But the man still remembered some of the boys who had been on the programme and gave Porthos a small list of names. It was a huge step in the right direction and Porthos and Athos both agreed that, after Marsac's trial, they'd begin to track down the potential victims and see if they'd be willing to talk.

It was soon Sunday night, the day before the trial. They were all at home, trying their best to distract Aramis from his nerves by cooking with him, when Athos got a phone-call. It was Vice.

“Homicide just found a body and called us because they think it's a sex-worker.”

Athos sighed. He knew what was coming but he didn't want to hear it, not now, not tonight.

“They texted me a photo and I think it's Lacey Charrier. Your name is on her case file.”

“Where is she?” Athos asked, being careful what he said with Aramis in the room.

“She was in the river but divers got her out.”

It was the last thing Athos needed the night before the trial but he couldn't ignore it either, he needed to go and see the body for himself. He asked for the exact location and then hung up. He looked across at Porthos and Aramis.

“Work,” he said to Porthos. Porthos raised an eyebrow.

“What sort of work?”

“Lacey. Stay here, I'll try not to be too long.”

He couldn't tell Porthos with Aramis sitting right there and, despite not really wanting to go without Porthos, Aramis needed Porthos more so Athos headed out by himself.

Although the days were finally starting to get lighter, it felt like a particularly bleak and grim evening when Athos pulled up to where flashing police-lights were illuminating the overclouded sky. Athos showed his badge to a uniformed officer who lifted up the police-tape and allowed him to duck underneath. There was a hive of activity down by the walkway along the river. A homicide detective called Valentin, whom Athos vaguely knew from another district, greeted him. The body had already been hidden from view inside a small white tent with forensics on scene in their white outfits and blue plastic covered boots.

“Vice called me. I've been looking for a prostitute called Lacey Charrier,” Athos explained as Valentin led him over to the tent.

“Well I wouldn't like to say it's her for sure but there's a dragonfly tattoo on the stomach and, when Vice sent over the photo from Lacey's missing persons file, I'd say it's a pretty good likeness.”

The homicide detective held open the flap of the tent to allow Athos to step inside. Someone dressed in full forensics gear with a mask covering their mouth was taking photographs and another was kneeling down scribbling on a notebook. On the ground lay a naked young woman, long messy dyed blonde hair, eyes closed, body bloated, skin waxy and pale. Athos had seen many dead bodies in his time but he never got used to it.

He pulled out the photograph of Lacey which he had hidden in his jacket pocket and held it out close to the face of the corpse. Even with the change in shape and skin colour, he was also fairly convinced that it was Lacey. She even had the same mole on her chin.

“Any idea how long she has been dead for?” Athos asked the man with the notebook, Gilbert was his name, Athos had worked with him before, bright guy but sometimes a little odd.

“Only been in the water a couple of days I reckon but I think that she was partly decomposed before she was dumped. I'm guessing a couple of weeks but I'll know more once we get her back to the mortary.”

“Cause of death?”

Gilbert pointed to dark marks on her waxy neck.

“I'd put my money on strangulation but too early to tell for sure. You know water cases, the water boths helps and hinders.”

Athos nodded. His missing person case had just turned into a murder case. It was the last thing he needed the day before the trial but it wasn't Lacey's fault. Athos felt thoroughly depressed about it, he had rather hoped that they'd find her alive despite all of the time which had passed.

“You want it?” Valentine asked. “Or we'll have it.”

“You will?” Athos turned back to him. “Only I have a couple of other cases right now and a trial I need to attend this week...”

The detective tucked his hands into his pockets and shrugged.

“Yeah we'll take it. Homicide is my job after all. Just give me everything you had on the case.”

“Well it wasn't much,” Athos admitted. “I was just trying to find her. She has a two year old son, someone will have to inform the friend who is looking after him.”

“Well...you did find her,” the Detective commented dryly.

Athos felt miserable as he headed back to the station. He thought that he might as well pass his notes over to the homicide team now, before he got distracted by the trial. The office was quiet, the night-shift were obviously out and about. Treville wasn't even there and that man never went home. In fact Athos wasn't even sure if the man _had_ a home. There was a rumour that he slept in his office.

He turned the lamp on over his desk and began to email information across, not able to shake the feeling of bitter disappointment. He had known somewhere deep-down that that the outcome probably wasn't going to be positive but he had really been hoping a miracle. He had desperately wanted to find Lacey alive. He thought about Aramis and how, after so many years of working in equally dangerous situations, he could have so easily ended up on the same situation. It could have been Aramis lying there, naked and bloated, just a shell of a human-being. Being photographed by someone in a white suit and then cut open by the coroner's knife.

No, no, he shut his thoughts down and stood up to the turn the lamp off. Aramis was safe. Nothing was going to happen to Aramis.

He said goodnight to the grumpy desk sergeant as he headed out and then walked across the parking lot towards his car. He was wondering if he should tell Porthos when he got home or just leave it, hearing about a sex-worker being murdered probably wasn't what Porthos needed to think about the night before their ex-sex-worker was going to give evidence against his pimp. So Athos decided it could wait, Porthos hadn't really been working on the case anyway.

He was reaching for the handle of the car-door when he heard footsteps behind him. A 'hey' made him turn around but he barely caught sight of the figure in front of him before pain so sudden to the side of the head made his vision go black.

Athos woke up to an incessant and irritating beeping noise accompanied with a severe throbbing pain in his head. His arms were cold, he tried to move them but they felt so heavy that he was unable to. In fact he couldn't move at all and he couldn't focus his brain enough to figure out what was going on because his head hurt so much and...what was that annoying noise? All he managed to do was let out a distressed groan.

“Athos?” A voice pierced his sore, foggy head. “Athos, are you awake?”

The voice was familiar but Athos couldn't place it. He just about managed to grunt and tried to open his eyes but even that proved to be a challenge.

“Hold on, I'll get the nurse.”

Was that Captain Treville? He heard footsteps scurry away which meant that he was soon left alone with the beeping noise. He made another attempt to open his eyes but one of them was being more obedient than the other and he couldn't figure out what was going on. Where was he?

He tried to speak again, call out but his voice didn't seem to be working too well either.

Suddenly there were voices again and a blurred head came into view.

“M. de la Fere, do you know where you are?”

He couldn't speak, his pounding head refused work and, anyway, he had no-idea where he was.

“You're in hospital,” the female voice answered for him. Then a tissue gently wiped the tears away from his eyes which provided some blessed relief as everything started to come into focus. The women leaning over him, with her hair tied back with a pen sticking out, was obviously a nurse and the white walls of a hospital room clearly indicated that she was telling the truth.

“Are you in pain at all?” she asked.

Everything hurt. From his stomach to his head, everything hurt. So he nodded a little, but even that made a lightening bolt of pain shoot from his neck into his head and he winched.

“I'll call for the doctor and we'll get you some morphine, just hold on.”

The face smiled then disappeared.

“Athos?”

Treville. Athos wanted to move his head to the other side to look at him but his head hurt so much and his neck was too stiff. Thankfully Treville leaned forward and came into Athos' view. It was a relief to see a familiar face.

“Don't try to move too much, lad. You were attacked. Just take it easy, you've got an impressive list of injuries.”

“Like what?” Athos croaked. He knew he was in pain and could barely move but he wasn't sure why. His head hurt the most but now he realised that his ribs hurt as well. Each small breath in felt like a lot of effort.

“I'll let the doctor tell you, I can't even remember them all.”

Treville went quiet then and Athos felt relieved that he didn't have to think or talk for a few minutes although the beeping was still driving him mad.

More footsteps and now a new face, another female but this one was wearing a white coat. She smiled warmly down at him.

“Hello, Athos, I'm Doctor Patel,” she said. “It's good to see you awake. I'm just going to check you over quickly then we can give you some pain relief.”

Athos lay still and let her shine a torch into his eyes, touch around his head, check his right rib-cage and do whatever else she needed to do whilst the unrelenting beeping continued to drive him mad.

“How are you feeling?” she asked once she was done.

“Like shit,” he admitted honestly.

“I'll give you some morphine which should help. Your....partner said that you don't have any allergies, is that correct?”

Partner? Porthos...where was Porthos? Where was Aramis?

“Athos?”

“Umm...” Athos tried to focus again but it wasn't easy when pain continued to pulsate through his head. “...no, no, I don't.”

“Okay.”

The doctor and nurse then got busy doing something. Athos tried to move his eyes to find out what and watched as the doctor injected the morphine into the IV drip which he didn't even realise he had.

“It should start to work pretty quickly,” the doctor said then appeared to pull up a chair whilst the nurse picked up a notebook and began to write things down. Athos still had no-idea what was going on and why he was in hospital and why everything hurt.

“Do you remember what happened to you?” The doctor asked.

Athos tried shaking his head from side-to-side but promptly realised that wasn't a good idea when pain shot up from his neck again.

“No,” he croaked.

“You came in with a traumatic pneumothorax, which means that one of your lungs had collapsed. So the doctors had to insert a chest tube between your ribs to clear the air and allow your lung to re-inflate again. Thankfully that was successful but you still have the tube in your side. You also suffered a head injury. You had a CT scan and we discovered you had a skull fracture and your brain was swollen from the trauma. Thankfully the fracture is what we call a linear fracture so it doesn't need surgery but, because your brain was swollen, we decided to keep you asleep for a while and monitor the swelling. You had another CT scan a couple of hours ago and the swelling has gone down quite significantly which is why we stopped giving you the drugs which were keeping you asleep.”

How long have I been in here?! Athos began to inwardly panic. The trial...Porthos...Aramis...where were they?

“Apart from that you have a broken nose, four fractured ribs, a fractured arm and we're a little concerned about some bruising on your organs, especially your kidneys so we'll be keeping a close eye on your fluid intake and urine for a while but it should all heal in time. I know this is a lot to take in, do you have any questions?”

“Yes,” Athos immediately said. “What day is it?”

“It's the early hours of Tuesday morning.”

Tuesday? The trial started yesterday. What happened? Where was everyone? Where was that bloody beeping noise coming from?

“Where's Porthos? Is he alright?” Athos asked, trying to turn to look at Treville.

“He's fine,” Trevile immediately said, reaching out and touching Athos' shoulder. “Do you have any questions for the doctor?”

Athos didn't give a damn about the doctor or his injuries, he wanted to know if Porthos and Aramis were alright. He needed to know that they were both okay.

“The trial, did it start? Is Aramis okay?”

“It's alright, Athos, I'll explain in a minute.”

Nothing seemed 'alright' at all.

“It's not alright! Where are they?!” Athos shouted. “And turn that fucking beeping off!”

Treville looked across Athos at the doctor.

“Once the morphine kicks in he'll calm down.”

“It's fine,” the doctor said and got up from the chair. “If he has any questions, ask one of the nurses to fetch for me. I'm on call all night. Just make sure he doesn't move around too much and he keeps that chest tube in. I can turn the monitor noise off.”

And she did just that and, for a brief moment, Athos closed his eyes and sighed with relief when the beeping stopped.

“Yes, thank you, Doctor Patel,” Treville said.

The doctor left the room and Treville kept a firm grip on Athos' shoulder with one hand as he pulled a chair closer with the other to sit himself down.

“Athos,” he spoke calmly, looking right at him. “The trial went ahead because we couldn't prove that your attack had anything to do with it. So Porthos gave evidence instead.”

No...no...Porthos must have been in pieces worrying and then he had to give evidence. He wouldn't have been at his best. He wouldn't have done it right. As if reading his mind Treville commented.

“He did a great job from what I heard. Someone from Vice also gave evidence. They didn't have time for anything else. The trial will continue today.”

So Aramis hadn't testified yet, thank god for that. Athos wanted to be there when Aramis testified, he had to be there.

“They're okay though, they haven't been hurt?”

Treville shook his head from side-to-side.

“No, you were the only person who was attacked. Do you remember anything about it? We watched the CCTV from outside the police station. There was a black van but the number plate was fake. Two men wearing balaclavas hit you with an iron bar and then dragged you into the back of the van. Do you remember anything?”

“No,” Athos admitted honestly because he really didn't. He remembered going to his car, but that was it. “How did you find me?”

“They dumped you back outside the police-station once they had beaten you up. They wanted us to find you. It makes me believe that it was meant as a warning but they could have killed you. If they had just hit your head that tiny bit harder...”

Athos agreed. They had almost killed him but they didn't kill him, they didn't stab or shoot him, he was still alive.

“Marsac?” Treville suggested.

“Maybe,” Athos agreed. It was a huge coincidence that it happened the night before the trial. “Maybe he doesn't know where Aramis is but I was easy to trace. I'm a cop, I work at the police-station and he knows my name. But who knows. I've been throwing Hector Lovitt's name around recently, he's one of the potential child-abusers and there's a line of people who probably want to beat the crap out of me from everything I've work on over the last few years.”

Treville snorted. “True.”

They remained silent for a moment and Athos realised that the morphine was starting to do its job as the throbbing in his head was beginning to subside a little. It was a blessed relief but there was still a part of him which was too afraid to try and move.

“How are Porthos and Aramis?” Athos asked, still needing to know.

“Worried sick about you. The second the trial was over today they were here by your bedside, they were here for hours but then I ordered them to go home. They need to sleep. I promised that I'd spent the entire night here with you, it was the only way I could get rid of them.”

Athos wanted to thank Treville but he wasn't sure how to do so. He turned his head to a more comfortable position which still meant that he found himself staring up at the ceiling.

“I should be killing you myself really,” Treville then commented. “I told you to stay away from Aramis and not get involved.”

“I know.”

It didn't surprise Athos that Treville now knew about it. Porthos and Aramis wouldn't have been-able to hide it from him given the situation.

“I'm sorry,” Athos added.

“You will be sorry once you're better and I can yell at you properly without feeling bad about it.”

Athos smiled a little. To feel well enough to get a lecture from Treville was actually something he looked forward to considering how terrible he felt in that moment.

“Get some rest, Athos. I'll call Porthos first thing in the morning to tell him that you're awake, I don't want to disturb him now.”

Athos felt sad because he desperately wanted to see Porthos but yes, if the trial was going ahead then they needed to get some sleep. He hoped that Porthos was staying strong, he hoped that Aramis wasn't too distressed. He had them both on his mind as he closed his eyes and drifted back off into a doze which was often disturbed by nurses checking on him but at least the beeping noise had stopped.

When he woke up properly again he was in pain once more. Treville was still there, he called for a nurse and they gave him more pain-killers. His head wasn't as sore, his arm was fine if he didn't move it but his ribs and stomach hurt like hell. They must have really beaten him whilst he was unconscious.

Athos had no concept of time but the hustle and bustle hospital noises coming from outside the room were beginning to increase which Athos assumed meant that morning had arrived.

Treville helped him sip some water with a straw and Athos had just begun to doze off again when the doors of the room burst open and Porthos came racing in.

“Athos!” He cried and Treville leaned out of the way just in time for Porthos to come hurtling over and throw himself forward, his hands immediately cupping Athos' face. He stared down at Athos as if he couldn't believe that Athos was there.

“Oh my god, you're awake, you really are awake.”

Leaning forward Porthos pressed his face into Athos' shoulder. Athos closed his eyes and concentrated in feeling the warm breath of Porthos tickling his neck and the smell of Porthos filling his nostrils. Suddenly everything felt a little bit better.

“Oh my god you're awake,” Porthos whispered again, lifted his head once more and placed a heavy kiss onto Athos' lips. “I was so scared, I was so scared...” He continued to stare down at Athos, as if he couldn't believe his eyes.

“I'm okay, Porthos,” Athos whispered, trying to reassure him.

“No you're not. Look at you.”

Athos paused for a moment. “What do you I look like?”

“Like you've gone ten rounds with a pissed off gorilla,” came a female voice. Athos' eyes darted to the end of his bed where Constance was standing there with a small smile on her face. It was good to see her, Athos was pleased that she was there, taking care of Porthos and Aramis. Aramis...where was Aramis?

“Where's Aramis?” he asked her but then turned to look at Porthos. Porthos immediately looked behind himself.

“He's here. Aramis, come on, it's okay. Come here, love.”

Porthos reached his arm out and then finally Aramis came into view, he looked the very definition of disheveled; his hair was all over the place and his eyes were red and sore like he had been crying all night. He was squeezing his hands together and his shoulders were hunched over. Athos wanted to do nothing more than jump out of bed and give the man a giant hug but frustratingly his current circumstances prevented him from doing so.

“Hey, Aramis,” Athos tried to sound confident despite his still weak voice. ”Don't be upset, the doctor said that I was going to be okay.”

Porthos moved to one-side to allow Aramis to have access to the bed. He also reached out and seemed to place a hand on Aramis' back to comfort him.

“The Captain and I will go grab a round of hot drinks, be back in a bit,” Constance said somewhere and then seemed to disappear from the room with Treville. Athos appreciated the gesture as it gave them some privacy.

“Aramis...”

Athos looked up at him but Aramis was barely meeting his eyes.

“Please don't be sad, I'm okay, I really am.”

“No you're not,” Aramis said, his face scrunching up and tears filling his eyes. “They hurt you really bad and it's my fault.”

“It's not your fault, stop thinking that,” Porthos said and immediately stood up straight and tugged Aramis towards him, hugging the man tightly. Aramis cried in Porthos' arms. Athos watched them, not being-able to do much apart from that. Porthos rubbed Aramis' back for a while but eventually turned to look back over his shoulder down at Athos.

“He thinks Marsac must have ordered someone to do this to you. Because Marsac's angry that Aramis loves us now instead of him.”

“Aramis, it might not have been Marsac...”

“It was,” Aramis mumbled into Porthos.

“You don't know that,” Porthos pointed out. “Let's sit down so Athos can see us.”

Porthos dropped his arms from Aramis and pulled a second chair towards the bed. Athos watched them get settled and tried to move on the bed to sit himself up a little, but his ribs immediately protested. He felt the broken bones grind painfully and it made him flinch. Porthos though, immediately realising what he was trying to do, jumped up to help.

“Hold on, I'll put the bed up for you slightly.”

He grabbed some control from the wall, pressed a button and the back of the bed slowly moved, just a small amount at a time until Athos was sitting up more. It automatically made him feel better because he hated feeling so vulnerable lying down.

“How did I get my own room?” Athos asked as Porthos settled himself back into the chair. It hadn't even occurred to Athos before that he was by himself in a private room instead of on a ward.

“Treville demanded it, spouted something about the safety of his officers. He has been great actually. And umm...don't hate me but I called your mother.”

“Why?” Athos demanded. That was the last thing he needed.

“Because you were really unwell, Athos, and I thought she should know.”

“She's not coming is she?”

“No but she's...concerned. She has rung me a couple of times asking for news and offering to get you into a private hospital. I'll ring her later and let her know that you're awake.”

Athos didn't even have the energy to be annoyed at Porthos about it and he also wasn't surprised that his mother didn't drop everything to come and visit him. He probably should be grateful for small mercies. His attention was then back on Aramis who was staring down at his lap.

“Aramis, why do you think Marsac did this?”

Did Aramis know something they didn't? Or was Aramis just making the connections in his own head?

Aramis did at least look up finally.

“Because he did it before, when that man hurt me. He got some men to break lots of his bones and now Marsac has done it to you.”

Athos sighed and shifted on the bed a little. His arse was getting uncomfortably numb and he just needed to move about. He was already getting irritated with not being-able to move, he would have to get better fairly quickly.

“It might not have been Marsac, Aramis. I know the timing does imply that he might have been involved, but we don't know for sure,” Athos explained, wanting to be honest. “What happened with the trial? Treville said it went ahead.”

Porthos nodded, reaching out he placed a hand under Athos' and curled their fingers together.

“Well the whole thing started late because of what happened to you. Anne tried to get the Judge to postpone the trial but he said, with no current evidence that your attack and the trial had any connection, he couldn’t postpone it but agreed to let me testify in your place. Marsac's lawyer protested supposedly but the Judge told him to shut up.

So I did testify and I don’t even bloody know what I said to be honest but then your ex testified for Vice and she did a great job. She gave a lot of evidence from all of the work they did trying to arrest Marsac on numerous occasions. In fact there wasn’t even time to cross-examine her so that’ll happen this morning. Then Alexei will be testifying about Marsac being his pimp, then the doctor who treated Aramis will take the stand and then it’ll be Aramis. So I have warned Aramis that it might not be his turn for a couple of days yet. But Constance stayed with you today, didn’t she?”

Athos found himself not even caring that his ex-wife was there and was involved. In fact, much to his own surprise, he was rather grateful that she had done it. He'd seen her in the court-room before, she was fierce. If anyone was going to take the stand and make sure Marsac went down, his ex-wife was a good start. Constance, thank heavens for Constance. Although that did make Athos realise that someone was missing...  
  
“Where’s d’Artagnan?” He asked curiously.  
  
“Trying to find the fuckers who did this to you,” Porthos explained. “The kid is pissed of...well we all are but d'Artagnan is on a mission, trust me. He's fuming. I'm pleased he's on the case.”

Deciding to try and not worry about d'Artagnan for the time-being made Athos' mind drift back to the court-case.  
  
“Are the defense using any witnesses?”  
  
“No. Marsac is going to give evidence right at the end but his lawyer is one slimy arsehole. He tried to find holes in every single thing I said. But I hope I did a good job, I can’t even remember...all I was thinking about was you lying in hospital and how much I wanted so badly to be here with you. I was worried that you'd wake up and be on your own and scared...”  
  
Porthos had to suddenly bite onto his bottom lip which Athos knew was a sure sign that the big man was about to burst into tears.  
  
“I did wake up and I’m fine, just a bit sore. I’m sure you did a wonderful job, the Captain heard that you did.”  
  
He tried to squeeze Porthos' fingers but it proved difficult and Athos realised that it was because Porthos was holding his broken arm so he gave up with a sigh of frustration.  
  
“Do you really feel okay?” Porthos asked, sounding concerned. “You’re not just lying to stop us from worrying?”  
  
“I wouldn’t do that.”  
  
“Yes you would.”  
  
Athos did pause then to think about how he truly felt. His head was a little sore but it wasn’t as bad as when he had first woken up. His broken arm didn’t hurt, it was just annoying that he couldn’t use it. It was mainly his ribs and stomach that were giving him pain but the morphine was helping.  
  
“To be honest,” he began to admit, shifting slightly to try and ease some of the stiffness. “I’m mostly frustrated about the fact I’m stuck here in a hospital bed instead of being in court.”  
  
“Don’t worry about that,” Porthos said, reaching out to stroke Athos’ gown covered shoulder. “I can sit in today and I’ll report back. And Aramis...” Porthos turned to look at the quiet man. “... maybe he can stay with you until he’s needed. They’ll give him a call when they need him in court. Probably better for him to stay here with you than waiting at the court house. What do you think, Aramis?”  
  
“I want to stay with Athos,” he said immediately which seemed to settle it.  
  
“Alright,” Porthos nodded. “I’ll ask Constance to go grab your medication because I just realised that we rushed out so fast we forgot about it and...”  
  
“Frodo?” Aramis questioned which made Porthos smile.  
  
“Yeah and Frodo. I’ll ask her to take him out. Just make sure you eat some food, Aramis, alright? I’ll leave you my bank card so you can buy yourself breakfast and lunch at the canteen. If you’re not needed today then I’ll be back later to take you home.”  
  
“Can you take me home as well?” Athos asked wistfully which made Porthos look uncomfortable for a brief moment.  
  
“Umm we’ll see.”  
  
He offered a smile but Athos knew that was a no. Still, he could discharge himself if need be. There was absolutely no-way he’d be staying in hospital for very long. He hated hospitals with a passion. All of the germs, all of the illnesses...still, he was grateful that he had his own room. Thank heavens for Treville being an assertive, stubborn bastard.  
  
Constance and Treville reappeared just in time to receive Porthos’ instructions and then they all left, much to Athos' disappointment because he didn't want Porthos to leave but the court case was important and one of them had to go. But it just left Athos and Aramis alone in the room. Athos was about to try and get Aramis to talk to him when a whole bunch of doctors came in doing their rounds. He was checked and prodded and the doctor was annoyingly noncommittal when Athos asked when he could go home.  
  
“You’ll be here for a few days I’m afraid, we need to keep our eye on you.”  
  
Like hell I will, Athos mused as the swarm of doctors left the room. Then a nurse was back, checking his blood pressure and emptying his catheter bag which was embarrassing but he knew that he needed one considering he could barely move. He smiled as much as he could and thanked the nurse, wanting to keep on the good-side of the important people as it would help in his escape. But, once they were finally left alone again, he was finally able to turn back to Aramis who was still sitting in the chair looking just as miserable as he had been when he'd first come into the room.  
  
“Aramis, even if it was Marsac’s who ordered people to do this to me, know that it was my choice to be a part of your life and none of this is your fault.”  
  
Aramis was looking at him with his sore red eyes but all he did was blink. Athos wanted to reach out and pat down his unruly bed-hair and give him a reassuring kiss but his ribs were unfortunately stopping him from doing any of that.  
  
“Aramis, I...I don’t know what else to say to make you feel better. But I love you and I don’t want you to be scared by this.”  
  
“I’m not scared,” Aramis said instantly. So instantly that it surprised Athos.  
  
“You’re not?” Ninon’s voice entered Athos’ head which helped him find the right words. “Then how do you feel?”  
  
“Angry,” Aramis admitted, although his quiet voice didn’t display any of his anger but Athos would see it perhaps in Aramis’ face now that he was looking for it.  
  
“At the people who hurt me?”  
  
Aramis nodded firmly.  
  
“Yes. No-one should have ever hurt you. You’re a good person. You’re a good person who helps people all of the time and then someone really hurt you and it was so bad, Athos. When Porthos and I came to the hospital on Sunday night, it was so bad. The doctor said you were very poorly and they had to keep you asleep because you were so poorly. I wasn’t sure if you were ever going to wake up and Porthos was upset and crying and I didn’t know how to help and...”  
  
Aramis was barely taking a breath but he was talking and Athos was grateful for it so he didn’t interrupt or try to calm him down.  
  
“...then we had to go to court yesterday and leave you here which made us both very sad. I feel so angry at Marsac because he did this to you, I know he did. Just like that man who hurt me before. But you haven’t hurt me, Marsac is just angry. He doesn’t want me to love anyone else and now he’s mad but I don’t care because I hate him.”  
  
The volume of Aramis’ voice was beginning to increase.  
  
“I hate him for doing this to you! I hate him!”  
  
Then Aramis lost it and, letting out a pained whine, he threw himself forward and buried his face into Athos’ ribs which immediately made Athos hiss in pain but he wasn’t going to push Aramis away, not now and not ever.

He lifted his good arm and reached across his body even though is hurt his ribs so much but he needed to touch Aramis. Athos still had absolutely no-idea if Marsac had been involved but it wasn’t the right time to explain that to the man leaning forward on the bed. Aramis needed to let out some long overdue anger and Athos had to let him.

“I know, it's okay,” Athos said gently as he continued to try and soothe him. There was no-way that he was not going to be there when Aramis testified, no-way. He wanted to make that very clear.

“I'll be there in court when you give evidence, I promise, Aramis. I'll be there.”

Aramis lifted his head up slowly and gave Athos a look which Athos could only describe as a 'are you being serious right now?' look. He hadn't seen Aramis do it before, it was so adorable that it distracted him for a moment.

“Athos, your head is all bandaged up.”

“Yes but my head doesn't feel too bad.”

"You have a black-eye and a broken-nose and your face looks all purple and swollen."

Wow, it hadn't occurred to Athos before that he probably looked utterly terrible. Still, that didn't matter. It didn't matter what he looked like when he was sitting in the court-room.

"The swelling will go down."

"You have a tube sticking out of your side."

"Oh." Athos had forgotten about that. Well he hadn't actually seen it yet, he couldn't twist that far to look. “That's just a minor problem.”

"And Porthos said that you have a tube in your penis because..."

"Yes, alright, Aramis," Athos interrupted. He didn't particularly want to think about that. 

"Athos, you have to rest and get better. Promise me that instead."

Athos didn't want to. He wanted to be in the court-room, he wanted Aramis to be-able to see him if he got scared. He couldn't bear the thought of not being there for him.

"Okay," he whispered the lie. 

 


	55. The Rainbow Haired Nurse

The morning went by frustratingly slow as they waited for Porthos to ring with an update. Athos continued to despise lying in bed and his growing disdain at his unfortunate situation was only momentarily quelled when the morphine began to wear off and the reality of how much of his body actually hurt began to sink in. From his head to his nose to his chest, stomach and arm, everything hurt. Thankfully his pride didn't stop him from asking the nurse for more morphine at least and, once she injected it into his IV, the immediate tingle of euphoria came as a blessed relief.  
  
Aramis fussed over him but let him doze when Athos no longer had the energy to stay awake.

Later in the morning, when Athos came round again, his brain worked semi-well enough for him to properly access his predicament. If he was going to attend court to support Aramis then there were a couple of things which would need to change; one was the tube sticking out of his side, the other was the catheter. He could remove the catheter himself if need be, but the chest-tube was a greater challenge.

Athos tried to sit himself up a little which immediately drew Aramis' attention. Aramis jumped up from the chair, abandoning his book to lean over the bed.

“Are you alright?”

“I just need to sit up,” Athos explained and, between the two of them, they worked out which button on the fancy device they had to press in order to encourage the back of the bed to move.

Then Athos, who was only wearing a flimsy light-blue medical gown, pulled at the gown to examine the chest tube. It didn't take him long to find it. The offending piece was a long see-through plastic tube with numbers on it, just the width of a small coin, coming out just a few inches beneath his arm-pit.

“Aramis, could you go and ask a nurse if they can remove the tube?” he asked.

Aramis, as dutiful as ever, nodded and left the room but Athos did noticed him rolling his eyes first.

When the door to his private hospital room re-opened Athos was somewhat disappointed when Aramis came back alone.

“They said that they'd ask a doctor to come in and see you,” Aramis explained which Athos accepted for the time-being. When the door opened again a few minutes later Athos felt hopeful until d'Artagnan's head appeared...not that it wasn't nice to see d'Artagnan.

“Wow you look bad,” came the unhelpful comment from the young man which caused Athos to suddenly feel somewhat self-conscious about his face. He still hadn't looked at himself in a mirror and now he wasn't sure if he wanted to.

“Thank you, d'Artagnan,” Athos commented dryly.

“But it's good to see you awake!” D'Artagnan then added as he came closer. “And the bruises will heal. Wow they did a good job with your nose. The Captain said that it was broken so they had to pop it back in place but it doesn't look any different to me, just swollen I guess. I mean you always had a bit of a weird nose anyway to be honest...”

Athos was far more interested in learning how the investigation was going than having a conversation about his nose.

“Have you discovered anything about my attackers?”

“Yes!” D'Artagnan smiled at Aramis then pulled a chair closer to where Aramis was sitting. “We found the van, it was dumped a few miles from the police station. The fake number plates were stuck over the real plates so we managed to trace the van back to a plumping company called Couture and sons. Does that ring any bells?”

Athos tried to think, not that his brain was fully operational yet, but nothing came to him.

“No, I don't think so.”

“Well I spoke to the boss and he's claiming not to know anything about it. He said that it was an old van which they never used anymore. He thought it was still in their car-park out the back of their warehouse. I asked for a full list of his employees to run through the database but it would be rather dumb to use your own work van to kidnap and assault a police officer. Still, someone knew there was an unused van sitting there. Did you get a good look at the attackers at all?”

Athos shook his head slightly, as much as he could without it hurting.

“Not in the slightest. They literally knocked me unconscious straight away. I really can't remember anything at all.”

There was a hint of disappointment on d'Artagnan's face, which Athos understood but he really didn't remember a thing. He didn't even get a good at the man who had knocked him out.

“Maybe it's for the best that you don't remember the attack. I'll try my best to find out who did it, Athos, I promise.”

“I know you will,” Athos commented. He was glad that d'Artagnan was on the case. He did wonder if Aramis was going to say something about his theory on Marsac's involvement but Aramis said nothing, just sat there quietly.

“What were you doing before you got to the car-park?” d'Artagnan asked. “It would be good to figure out how they knew you were going to be there, assuming they were targeting you.”

“I had a call from...” Athos paused and hesitated. He didn't want to talk about finding a dead prostitute in front of Aramis. “...call Valentin, he's a detective, he can fill you in. After being down by the river with him I went back to the office to email Valentin some of my notes and then I was in the car-park because I was heading home.”

Thankfully d'Artagnan didn't insist that Athos tell him more, he just paused thoughtfully.

“Seems to me like it was either a punishment or a warning. The fact they dropped you back at the police-station once they were done...they wanted other cops to find you. They wanted everyone in the station to know about it. But I can imagine that you've got a lot of people who want to beat the shit out of you considering how many criminals you've put away in your career.”

“Yes, thank you, d'Artagnan,” Athos warned, really not wanting Aramis to hear about it.

“I just need to keep looking. I think the van might hold some clues. It's with forensics now, hopefully they'll find some fingerprints.”

“Good thinking. We'll find out who did it, I have faith in you.”

Athos smiled his encouragement and then suggested that they talk more when his brain was feeling a little less foggy. That seemed to satisfy d'Artagnan who soon left them to it, off to investigate further. Athos had a soft-spot for d'Artagnan but the silence the room offered once the kid had left the room he was grateful for. He still felt so drained of energy, which he hoped was normal after having been kept asleep by chemical means for a couple of days.

Aramis continued to be quiet, sitting in a chair looking upset. Athos wished that he could do something to help.

“Aramis?” he called and reached his arm out only to struggle to lift the limb because it felt heavy and weak.

“Careful!” Aramis said, jumping up and leaning over the bed. “That's your broken arm,” Aramis then pointed out. “They've plastered it.”

Athos looked down at his arm. He had been so focused on the tube in his chest and the pain in his ribs that the fact he had a broken arm had seemed minor before now. It was indeed in a white plaster cast. Seeing it caused Athos to sigh. How was he going to move around with broken ribs and a broken arm? He'd need an electric wheelchair or something and those would be hard to come by. Suddenly a fleeting thought of calling his mother to ask her to buy him an electric wheelchair crossed his mind but then the horror of having to talk to her made the brief idea disappear quite rapidly.

“Are you okay?” Athos asked. The last thing he wanted was for what happened to weigh heavily on Aramis' mind, especially when there was a chance that it had nothing to do with Marsac or Aramis at all.

Aramis blinked down at him and then, after a few seconds of silence, he began to smile. It was a smile so full of affection and love that it caused Athos to feel a little giddy, although that probably was the morphine as well. Athos automatically smiled back because Aramis had such a beautiful smile and Athos felt an huge surge of relief at seeing it once again.

Aramis then appeared to examine Athos' face, probably the brusies, and reached out to stroke some of Athos' hair back from tickling his forehead.

“When I was...there were times...” Aramis began, his voice calm and controled. “...when I knew I wasn't happy but I didn't know why. I had my own apartment, I was good at my job, I had Marsac looking after me but I always felt heavy, like someone was holding onto my shoulders and pulling me down. Even when I got to do nice things like spend time with the elderly people at the day centre or when M. Mathieu gave me nice food to eat...whenever I left those nice places, I started feeling heavy again. Sometimes it was hard to eat, sometimes it was hard just to get out of bed. There were some days when all I wanted to do was hide underneath my blankets and hope that no-one would find me so I could just lie there forever.”

Aramis went quiet then and Athos wasn't sure if he had finished, but he didn't want Aramis to have finished, Aramis was opening up and it was heartbreaking but also wonderful. It was like, for the first-time ever, Aramis was really thinking about what he had gone through.

“I think you were depressed, Aramis,” Athos pointed out, hoping that he could encourage Aramis to keep going. “You obviously didn't understand that at the time but it sounds like you were. You thought that you should be happy because you thought you had everything, but you didn't. You didn't have a lot of things.”

Aramis' eyes left Athos' face for a moment. Then he reached behind himself and tugged a chair closer, before sitting himself down on it. Aramis then leaned forward to touch Athos on the shoulder, keeping physical contact between.

“When they phoned Porthos to tell us you had been very badly hurt and we rushed to the hospital, Porthos was crying and I didn't know what to do. I just wanted more than anything for you to wake up and I've never wanted something so much in my entire life.”

Aramis' eyes were filling with tears which he appeared to be scared to blink away. He only sniffed before continuing with his voice now wavering.

“I was scared that it was all going to end. That you'd die and Porthos would never stop being sad. I thought that someone had taken all of the good things away and all I wanted to do was hide underneath blankets again.”

“They haven't taken it away, Aramis, because I'm right here,” Athos tried to reassure him.

“But that's selfish, isn't it?” Aramis asked, his wet eyes searching Athos' for an answer. “It's selfish that I was thinking that.”

“No!” Athos immediately insisted. “No, Aramis, it's not selfish. If something happened to you or Porthos I'd feel the same. When you lose someone, it's heartbreaking for them but it's the people that get left behind who are the ones go through all of the grief and lonliness. The thought of that is scary.”

Aramis went quiet again and Athos could tell that he was thinking. He really wished that he could hear Aramis' thoughts sometimes, to help him understand Aramis better.

“Thank you for waking up,” Aramis whispered, bent forward and pressed his face against Athos' arm.

“You're welcome,” Athos whispered, staring down at the messy hair on his bed. The messy hair that belonged to the man who would be standing up in a dock very soon in a clearly very emotional state. It just confirmed to Athos that he had to be well enough to attend, he had to be there to support Aramis.

Eventually a grey-haired doctor appeared, had a good look at Athos and agreed that they could remove the tube in his chest that day, as long as Athos didn't mind the nurses coming in to check on him more regularly. Athos didn't care about that, he just wanted the tube out and begrudgingly had to accept the doctor's offer of doing the procedure later in the day.  
  
Aramis’ phone rang at lunch-time and he spoke to the person, clearly Porthos, for a couple of minutes before he passed the phone over to Athos who at least remembered to reach for it with his good arm.  
  
“It’s Porthos,” the wonderful voice of the most amazing man explained.  
  
“How is it going?” Athos immediately asked.  
  
“Slowly but they’ve finished with your ex-wife. She did really well, Athos, she was great. It still looks like Aramis won't be testifying until tomorrow or the day after now, which I just told him. Alexei is here with Charon and the couple he’s staying with, I just bumped into them. He’s in a suit, bless him. He looks way better than he did back when I last saw him, I think he has put on weight. He's clearly very nervous though.”   
  
“I hope he can do it,” Athos commented, butterflies doing flips in his stomach at the thought. Good for Alexei. That scared, messed-up, drug-addicted Russian kid they had come home to in their house that day had turned out to be a bit of a hero.  
  
“Yeah hope so as well. I hope Marsac’s lawyer won't be too much of an arse-hole to him. How’s Aramis?”  
  
Athos turned and smiled at the man in question.  
  
“Looking after me well.”  
  
“Yeah he must be because you’re obviously still in bed. Clearly Aramis is performing miracles. I'll come back the second it finishes here, okay? I love you. I hope you're being nice to the doctors and nurses.”

“Always,” Athos promised...and slightly lied. He decided not to tell Porthos about the tube being removed or anything else for the moment as he could fill Porthos in later on. Porthos then hung-up and Athos immediately felt a twinge of sadness. Hearing Porthos' voice made him long for him but still, at least Aramis was there, he wasn't alone.

Thankfully the doctor and a nurse did reappear eventually. Athos was undressed from the waist up and maneuvered into a very uncomfortable position with his arm above his head. It made his eyes water because it hurt his ribs so much, but he didn't dare complain because he desperately wanted the tube out.

Aramis looked concerned and leaned over the bed, rubbing at Athos' shoulder as the doctor injected local anesthetic into Athos' skin before removing the stitches keeping the tube in place and pulling it out. Athos tried not to flinch but it did feel horrible as the tube was tugged slowly from his chest.

Once the tube was out, the doctor stood there for a while, checking Athos' breathing with a stethoscope until he finally appeared to be satisfied that everything was working as it should be. When the doctor had stitched up the wound and put a plaster over it, they were finally left in peace. Athos immediately fumbled for Aramis' hand.

“It's okay, I'm here,” Aramis said softly before gripping Athos' fingers. Athos allowed himself to close his eyes. He knew that he needed to get better quickly if he was going to be there for Aramis when he testified but, considering how much everything hurt, he was scared about not being-able to do it. He felt so tired and groggy and sore, proven by the fact that just closing his eyes caused him to drift off.

When he woke up again a nurse was in the room changing his catheter bag. Aramis appeared to be asking her questions about kidneys and she was chatting away to him. Athos didn't listen much to their conversation, he just focused on getting his eyes open which was a task in itself. Once he did a young nurse with multi-coloured hair came into view. Athos wondered for a brief moment if he was hallucinating but, even after he blinked a couple of times, he discovered that she did indeed have rainbow colours in her hair.

Unfortunately she noticed that he was awake efficiently fast.

“How are you feeling? I need to check your blood-pressure.”

The machine made a nose and a strap on his arm tightened to an uncomfortable level.

“I feel fine,” Athos croaked, it was a lie, he felt like shit.

“Headache?” she asked.

“No,” Athos said and was being honest about that at least. He felt drowsy but it was really his ribs which were giving him the pain. She waited for the machine to do whatever it was doing and wrote something down on a chart.

“Well your urine is a healthy colour, no sign of any blood. Your doctor said that you can eat if you feel hungry. I could get you some soup or something easy to start with?”

“I'm fine, thank you,” Athos responded. Eating was the last thing on his mind. “Can you take the catheter out?” Stage two of his plan needed to happen very soon if he was going to leave his hospital bed.

“Not yet,” she told him. “The doctors want to keep an eye on your kidney function.”

“You just said that they were functioning fine,” Athos pointed out, as he lay there still unable to move very much. “And I need a wheelchair to help me get around. Can you find me one?”

She smiled at him somewhat knowingly.

“M. de la Fare, a physiotherapist will help you get out of bed and moving about very soon but it will happen slowly because of your skull fracture and broken ribs. You just need to have a lot of patience and, when the time is right, some perseverance sprinkled on top.”

He just grunted his response, unable to think of a proper answer to her weird advice. He didn't have time for patience and perseverance, he needed to move tomorrow.

“Now if you need go to the bathroom in the 'other' way, just press your call button and I'll come straight back to help.”

Athos hadn't even thought about that but now he wanted her to leave the room even more.

“I'm fine!” He snapped, perhaps a little too harshly but it didn't seem to deter her. She put his clipboard back on the end of his bed and continued to smile at him.

“Remember to let me know if you're feeling hungry and I'll get you that soup, I think it's pumpkin soup with Chantilly and onion confit today, which I've been told is super yummy.”

“I'm not hungry.”

Just leave, Athos pleaded in his head.

“Alright, I'm going to leave you be,” Oh thank god. “I'll be back in thirty minutes to do your observations again.” Oh please god no.

When she finally left Athos noticed that Aramis was frowning across at him.

“Athos, you shouldn't be rude, she was just being nice.”

“You think everyone is nice!” Athos pointed out angrily and then immediately regretted it, mostly because yelling made both his head and his ribs hurt. He groaned in pain and closed his eyes.

“Sorry,” he whispered quickly into the blissful darkness that his eyelids at least offered him. He immediately felt bad, he didn't want to fall out with Aramis. “Sorry.”

“It's okay,” Aramis said, his voice sounded closer. Then a warm hand began to stroke his cheek tenderly. “Porthos said that you'd be grumpy.”

“Did he?” At least Aramis had been warned. “I just...I can't stand just lying here.”

“I know, it's okay, I know...” Aramis whispered the words whilst stroking Athos' face, his voice becoming increasingly soft. “I know, I'm sorry, I'm sorry Marsac did this to you.”

Athos didn't even have the energy to argue with Aramis about his theory and he had something far more important to say anyway. He was still thinking about what Aramis had told him earlier, about how scared Aramis had been.

“I love you,” he told the man beside his bed. There was a silent pause.

“I love you too,” the soft voice in the darkness responded. “...and I'm here. If you need to go back to sleep, go back to sleep. I'll stay right here next to you. I can read you my book if you like?”

Athos opened his eyes in surprise and looked across at Aramis. Aramis had never offered to read to him before. Aramis' world of books had always seemed quite personal and private

“Yes please,” Athos responded which caused Aramis to immediately beam.

“It's not a crime thriller though, it's called An Africa Love Story. It's about a lady who rescues orphaned elephants. I found it in the hospital book-shop. I'll start from the beginning.”

Aramis moved to sit back in his seat and he picked up the book. Then the room was filled with the delightful sound of Aramis' voice reading from his book and, for the first time since the assault, Athos found himself relaxing. He rather enjoyed hearing about baby elephants.

When Porthos came back the atmosphere in the room change from one of quiet and peace to one of energy and franticness but Athos was so happy to see Porthos again that he almost cried. Aramis got a squeeze first and then Athos' face was covered in kisses, Athos counted at least ten, before Porthos pulled back to study him.

“You're looking better already. The swelling is going down.”

Porthos smiled and Athos realised, once again, that he had yet to look at himself in the mirror.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like if I don't leave this bed very soon I'm going to have a meltdown,” Athos replied honestly but that only caused Porthos to smile down at him affectionately and not jump to help his cause at all. He decided to add, very quickly just in case Aramis mentioned it first... “...They took the tube out of my side.”

“Oh.”

Porthos stood up and leaned over to look. Athos was still naked from the waist up so Porthos would have easily been-able to see the white plaster covering over where the hole had once been.

“So your lungs are working okay?”

“Yes, so far.” No, hold on, that wasn't the right thing to say to a worrying Porthos. “I mean the annoyingly happy, rainbow-haired nurse keeps checking on me and everything seems to be fine.”

“She's not annoying,” came a quiet voice from beside the bed. Porthos looked over his shoulder at Aramis then turned back. Aramis had taken quite a shine to the nurse, every time she came they'd chat away to each other. Athos now knew her entire life story thanks to Aramis asking so many questions.

“I told you to be nice to the doctors and nurses,” he warned Athos with a semi-serious glare on his face.

“That's a very challenging thing to ask me to do,” Athos pointed out.

“Well...just try your best.”

As much as Athos appreciated Porthos' concern for both himself and the medical staff, he was desperate to know what had happened at the trial and, obviously sensing Athos' need, Porthos asked Aramis if he could get him a coffee and maybe get some food from the canteen for them both.

“Do you want anything?” Porthos asked Athos. “Are you allowed to eat?”

It was Aramis who anwered the question.

“Nurse Fleur said that he could but he doesn't want to.”

“Oh well, get something extra for Athos as well. Maybe something easy to eat, they might have toast or something.”

Athos let them both make his decisions for him because, in that moment he didn't much care, he just wanted an update from Porthos and the fact Porthos was clearly trying to get Aramis out of the room just caused him to feel concerned.

“Still got my card?”

Aramis nodded and soon he was gone. Porthos sat on the chair Aramis had vacated beside the bed.

“So?” Athos asked immediately. “What happened?”

“Alexei did really well. He was clearly nervous, I mean he was as pale as a sheet and looked like he was going to throw-up at any second but he was honest and answered the questions with lots of detail. Anne managed to keep things calm when she was questioning him but things went a bit downhill when Marsac's lawyer cross-examined him. I mean not downhill I guess but he tried to get Alexei to admit that he barely knew Marsac and had only met him on a couple of occasions. Which turned out to be true, Gilles recruited Alexei and Gilles and the Madame were the ones who gave Alexei the drugs as payment for his work. But Alexei stood firm and was very insistent that it was Marsac who was in charge and he owned the brothels and all of the money they all earned went to Marsac.

“He started to wobble towards the end though. Marsac's lawyer kept on asking the same question over and over, getting more aggressive and Alexei began to get upset. I mean he was visibly shaking. The Judge had to stepped in and suggested that they end things there for the day and could carry on tomorrow but Anne said that she was satisfied that they had questioned Alexei enough and Marsac's lawyer, after a rather long discuss with Marsac, agreed that they didn't need to see Alexei again.”

“Fuck,” Athos muttered. All he could think about was, if Marsac's lawyer laid into Alexei like that, goodness knows what he'd do to Aramis.

“But it's okay, I mean Anne said it still went well. All of the evidence is mounting. Tomorrow morning it'll be the doctor who looked after Aramis and it's not like Marsac's lawyer can argue with medical facts. But Anne doesn't know what angle the lawyer will take when questioning Aramis. She thinks that they might try and make out like the assault was a crime of passion and madness and Marsac didn't actually mean to hurt Aramis at all, like he said to us during his interview.”

“He hit him twice and then tried to strangle him!” Athos pointed out angrily. “Of course he was trying to hurt Aramis! He was trying to kill him!”

“I know that, Athos, I'm just saying what Marsac's lawyer might argue. Thankfully we have him admitting to hurting Aramis on tape but Anne thinks they might try to make it sound less like attempted murder and more like he was just overwhelmed at the shocked of the betrayal I guess.”

“Fuck Marsac,” Athos muttered. “If he gets off...”

What would they do? Aramis would be in pieces, constantly terrified of Marsac coming to get him back. They'd have to move, far away and try to convince Aramis that Marsac couldn't find him there.

“He won't,” Porthos said, obviously trying to be reassuring. “I honestly don't think that the jury will be-able to find him not guilty of all of the charges. He'll go down for something, I'm pretty confident about that.”

Athos had to accept Porthos' positivity for the time-being. Porthos had been sitting in on the trial after all, he knew more about it than Athos did.

“So Aramis will be testifying tomorrow?” Athos asked.

“Yeah, he will.” Porthos quickly turned to glance at the door for a second as if checking to make sure that Aramis wasn't coming back in. “I don't know how he's going to cope with it all. He seems really upset over happened to you. I'm worried.”

“He's angry,” Athos pointed out, thinking it over in his mind at the same time. “That's what he said to me. He thinks Marsac ordered someone to do this to me and he's angry about it. To stand up now and face Marsac in the state he's in...”

“I know but what can we do?” Porthos leaned forward and placed his hand over Athos' fingers. “We can't tell him that he can't testify now, not after all of this build-up. Not to mention the impact it would have on the trial. We have to let him testify. I'm just...worried about what it might do to him.”

Athos could see the concern in Porthos' eyes, the way they darted about as they looked at him, obviously searching for some words of reassurance which Athos wasn't going to be-able to give.

“I want to be there,” Athos admitted. “We could get a wheelchair and you could push me about. I can't not be there, Porthos, please. To sit in this room when it's all happening at the court-house...”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Porthos interrupted with a grimace on his face. “You're far too unwell, Athos. You need to stay in bed.”

“I don't, I'm fine,” Athos insisted.

“You just think you're fine because you're stubborn, dosed up on pain-killers and you haven't, by some miracle, tried to get off the bed yet but you're not, you're really not fine.”

“I have to go, Porthos.”

“Don't!”

The force of Porthos' voice increasing in volume made Athos flinch. He watched as Porthos sat up straight, eyes filling with tears as he stared down at him with a serious expression on his face.

“Don't you fucking do this to me, Athos, not now, not tonight. You need to get better alright? You need to get better. I don't know what I'd do without you.”

Athos knew not to push it any further. He had upset Porthos and that hadn't been his intention at all. Obviously something on his face caused a change in Porthos because Athos suddenly found his face being cupped gently by two large hands.

“I know, I know you want to be there, but it'll be okay. I'll be with him and Constance has promised to be there as well. I'll ask d'Artagnan and the Captain to check in on you. Aramis and I need to know you're safe and being looked after.”

Porthos leaned forward and pressed a kiss against Athos' forehead and, whilst Athos was listening, it didn't deter his determination to go to court the following day.

 


	56. The Great Escape

Athos found saying goodbye to Aramis that evening incredibly difficult. He didn't want either Porthos or Aramis to leave but he knew that they needed to rest before the big day. All three of them seemed to be holding back tears as Porthos gave Athos a careful hug and then Athos reached out for Aramis' hand. Whilst he still secretly planned to go to court and be there for Aramis, he wanted to say something beforehand, just in case.

“Just be brave and try your best, alright? Don't worry about saying or doing the right thing, just be honest. And don't even look at Marsac, okay? Make sure you know where Porthos is sitting so, if you get scared, you can look at Porthos. Marsac's lawyer might try and upset you but don't let him. Stay strong. You did nothing wrong, Marsac shouldn't have hurt you, you need to remember that...”

He wanted to be there so badly, he wanted to be there for Aramis on the day when he was going to need them the most.

“...Just answer the questions in the way you practiced with Anne. You'll be fine.”

Aramis gave Athos a nod, although it was an unconvincing one.

“I love you,” Athos squeezed Aramis' hand and was at least rewarded with a small smile.

“We'll come straight here as soon as it's over,” Porthos promised, leaned forward and pressed a far too gentle kiss against Athos' forehead.

“I know. I love you too,” Athos told Porthos, wanting to make sure that he knew that as well. The day was going to be just as tough for him. Porthos mouthed the words back, smiled and then put his hand on Aramis' shoulder to guide him out of the room.

The room immediately felt empty and cold. Athos tugged at his thin white blankets to pull them up over his chest. He desperately wanted to be with Porthos and Aramis instead of being stuck in a germ-infested hospital room feeling sore all over. He began to feel a surge of hate for whoever had attacked him. He hated them for making the week even more difficult than it already was. He hated them for trying to take away his chance to be there for Aramis. He wasn't going to let them though, no-way, he was going to be there even if he had to half-kill himself in the process.

The anger pumping around his veins caused him to throw off the blankets with his good arm and glare down at his hospital gown. The catheter tube was sticking out from beneath the blue fabric. Fuck the catheter. He reached down and tugged at it to pull it out. Only the immediate burning pain it caused somewhere in his bladder made him cry out in shock. After a brief pause, his heaving determined lungs causing stabbing pains in his ribs which he tried to ignore, he tugged again. But it wouldn't come out and oh god it hurt.

“What are you doing?” Came the shocked voice of a female a moment later.

“I'm getting it out,” he told whoever it was, not even looking up to check as he tugged at it again, grimacing once more with pain.

“Stop! That's not how...just stop!”

A hand was suddenly on his arm. The shock of the hand made Athos pause and, as he blinked, multi-coloured hair into focus. Rainbow nurse was frowning sternly at him.

“You need to deflate the balloon first. You're going to damage yourself just pulling at it like that.”

“What balloon?” he asked confused.

“The one in your bladder, it keeps the other end in place. You haven't even emptied the bag...” She sighed dramatically. “M. de le Fare, you really need to learn some patience.”

“I don't have time to learn patience!” He pointed out with a heavy dose of exasperation. “I need it out, please, I can't...it's not coming out.”

“I know, I just told you why it isn't. And you shouldn't tug it hard like that either, you need to do it slowly.”

“Please...” Athos begged, his head beginning to feel woozy thanks to the effort it took just to breathe with his bad ribs. “Please...take it out.”

She looked at him, then down at his gown and then back up at his face again.

“I'll take it out but I'm telling the doctor that you demanded it and then you'll have to urinate in a bed-pan for a while so I can continue to check for blood.”

“I'll do whatever you like,” Athos promised her, knowing that he would have said anything in that moment just to get her to do it.

“Fine, just...don't touch anything until I get back. I need some equipment.”

Athos watched her leave the room, somewhat worried that she was lying and that she was now heading off to call for a doctor. But there wasn't much he could do about it so he lay back against the pillows and closed his eyes, trying to find a way to get air into his lungs without it causing any sharp pain in his ribs.

As it turned out Rainbow Nurse was good to her word and came back a couple of minutes later on her own. It took her a couple of minutes to detach the catheter bag before she stood up and lifted his gown. Athos didn't even care about his dignity anymore so he lay there like a good patient as she did something with a syringe to deflate the balloon before carefully pulling out the tube. If felt uncomfortable but, unlike when he had tried to do it himself, it was also completely painless.

“Thank you,” he said, as she lowered his gown back down and covered him back up with a blanket. Perhaps Rainbow Nurse wasn't so bad after all. “Can I trouble you for one more thing?”

She huffed as she started to put everything into a yellow hazard bag.

“Well you might as well, M. de la Fare, seeing as you managed to get my attention with your screaming.”

Athos paused, had he been screaming? He brushed away the comment.

“Can I have a mirror? I'd like to see what my face looks like.”

The way she considered his request for a while only caused Athos to worry about how bad his face was but she eventually nodded.

“Hold on.”

She left the room with her yellow bag.

“And you can call me Athos,” he called after her although he wasn't sure if she had heard.

When she came back she had a mirror in one hand and a plastic cup in the other.

“I'll do you a deal, Athos. I took your catheter out and I'll lend you this mirror but you have to do something for me first. I've brought you some soup. Can you at least try to have some?”

Athos gazed at the mirror and then regarded the soup. Now that she mentioned it he was feeling a little hungry.

“It's just my ribs...” he explained which seemed to cause her to smile and come closer.

“I know but, actually, breathing will hurt them more than eating and you seem to be doing a good job with the breathing thing, thankfully. So why don't you give it a go?”

She was so young, smiley and sweet with her multi-coloured hair that was crazy but sort of suited her and Athos realised that he was starting to warm to her, so he decided to give in to her request.

“Alright, I'll give it a go.”

Drinking the soup ended up not being too painful at all and it actually cured an ache in his stomach which Athos hadn't realised was hunger until the soup made it disappear.

Then Rainbow Nurse...Fleur...handed Athos the mirror and perched on his bed as she waited for him to use it, as if she was worried he would faint at the sight of his damaged face.

Athos ignored her hoovering, picked up the mirror and had a look. It was a indeed a slight shock finally seeing all of the bruising but, being in the police, he had seen worse. Porthos had mentioned that the swelling had gone down, all Athos could see now was a slight swelling to his nose and top lip, but it wasn't too bad. The bruising was slightly more impressive, under both eyes and across one side of his jaw there was an vast array of black, purple and yellow skin.

He dropped the mirror down onto his lap, even just holding a mirror had exerted a lot of energy from his tired body. Then he looked at young Fleur for a moment. He wasn't attached to anything anymore but he still needed a wheelchair, someone to push it and clothes...he needed clothes. So, whilst they were still exchanging favours...

“Do you have any proper clothes I can wear? I'm getting a bit sick of hospital gowns.”

“No, I'm sorry,” she said, patting him on the knee as she took the mirror and stood up. “You should ask your boyfriend to bring some of your own clothes in tomorrow. That would be a good idea actually, it'll help you feel better. But loose-fitting things like jogging bottoms, sweaters, that sort of stuff.”

Athos immediately caught the fact that she obviously believed either Porthos or Aramis were his boyfriend and yet had said the word so casually like it didn't matter to her at all, which he suspected that it didn't. There was a problem with her suggestion though.

“No, he...he might not be-able to come tomorrow. Not until late anyway. It doesn't matter, I'll ask a friend.”

“Alright.” She smiled at him and stood up. “You can use the phone beside your bed at any time. You have to dial a 9 first to call outside of the hospital.”

“Thank you,” Athos said, hoping that was his 'be nice to the staff' quota was now filled for the day because he was starting to feel tired and being polite was exhausting.

When Fleur finally left the room, Athos picked up the phone and dialled the only number he knew off-by-heart, the station-house. D'Artagnan wasn't there but he managed to get through to Treville who, after asking Athos lots of questions about how he was feeling and promising to check on him soon, Treville gave him d'Artagnan's personal number and Athos had to repeat it over and over in his head before he gave it a go. Thankfully d'Artagnan picked up and, when Athos asked if he could bring him some clothes first thing in the morning, didn't even question the request but just agreed to do it.

Then Athos couldn't sleep. He couldn't stand lying on his back anymore but lying on his side only caused at least five different parts of his body to hurt. So he fidgeted about a couple of hours worrying about Aramis which then turned into getting paranoid and anxious about the germs in the hospital room. It wasn't long until he was scratching himself all over to get the germs off. Then, when nothing felt like it was helping, a panic-attack overwhelmed him which caused his ribs to protest in agony as he heaved and gasped for air. He soon could barely breathe at all, his body finally giving up on him, he felt like he was going to passed-out so he reached out with a shaky hand and slammed his fingers down on the appropiately named panic alarm.

Fleur was immediately there and very quickly had a paper bag and reassuring words. Athos was too overpowered with the fear of losing control to even feel embarrassed by the fact she was having to help him calm down, he just closed his eyes, breathed into the bag and listened to her voice.

You're not dying, you're not dying, you're not dying...he repeated in his head as Fleur told him that he was going to be okay and just to take deep breaths.

“Stop fighting it, you're fine, just let your shoulders relax,” she suggested and Athos tried to do just that. The not fighting it and relaxing his body actually did help and he began to calm down, his frenzied gasping for air was beginning to slow and he just listened to her voice and the sound of the bag inflating and deflating.

Eventually he was able to pull his head back from the bag in order to finally speak.

“I-I n-need to wash,” he said breathlessly. “And I don't mean a b-bed-bath I mean...can I use the shower-room?”

Fleur looked at him for a while, as if considering the situation.

“Yes, alright. But, listen, we'll have to take this really slowly okay? You do things at my speed, not yours. I'll go and get a wheelchair.”

And she did. She came back in with a wheelchair and, with a lot of help, he managed to get himself down onto it although moving off the bed caused a wave of dizziness to momentarily stun him. Once it had passed, Fleur wheeled him into the en-suite bathroom which he knew that he was lucky to have.

His embarrassment about his modesty was long gone so he thought nothing of allowing Fleur to help him undress. She even turned the shower on for him and waited for it to get hot, wheeled him underneath it but then left him to it, making sure that the shampoo and shower-gel were both in easy reach. She did offer to wash his hair but that felt like a step too far for Athos' pride so he assured her that he could do it himself. And he did manage to it is himself, just about, although it was painful to lift his arms, but he managed to rub enough shampoo into his hair to make it feel clean.

Fleur popped her head in a few minutes later to make sure he was okay then said that she'd go and grab some towels and a new gown. It wasn't long before she was back, all too soon, and turned the hot water off. She wrapped him up in a couple of towels and left him alone more once to get dry. By the time he was finished he felt exhausted and every muscle in his body was aching. He just wanted to curl up in bed and sleep.

He must have fallen asleep once Fleur had helped him get back into bed because d'Artagnan woke him up the following morning coming into the room with his usual level of youthful enthusiasm.

“They're my clothes,” d'Artagnan pointed out as he brought a duffel bag over. “I couldn't get into your house, could I? Not without disturbing Porthos and Aramis and I figured they'd have enough on their minds this morning.”

“Very sensible,” Athos assured him and watched as d'Artagnan put the bag down onto the bed beside his legs.

“How about a t-shirt and sweater?” D'Artagnan suggested as he opened the zip. “That way you can take the sweater off if you feel hot.”

“I don't care, d'Artagnan, just give me some clothes.”

D'Artagnan briefly looked offended at Athos' abruptness but then passed Athos a pile of clothing and Athos got to work getting dressed. Getting things over his feet proved to be the biggest challenge but he eventually managed it with a bit of help from d'Artagnan. Eventually Athos was fully dressed and he felt a lot better for it, even if the clothes were slightly too big.

“I didn't get you any shoes, I sort of figured you wouldn't need those whilst you were in bed and I doubt we're the same size. I thought that could wait.”

Athos felt annoyed for a couple of seconds about the lack of shoes before realising that attempting to walk probably wasn't going to work anyway, he'd be too slow at it and they were already running late. He would have to be pushed around which meant that...

“Go and find a wheelchair.”

D'Artagnan blinked at him.

“Go and find a wheelchair,” Athos repeated more slowly, just in case the youngster hadn't heard.

“W-what? Why?”

“Because I can't stay in this room for a moment longer. I need to get out and get some air.”

The lie was automatically seen as such because d'Artagnan clearly wasn't stupid and didn't move from the spot beside the bed where he was standing.

“Are you trying to get me to help you escape because...”

“I'm not,” Athos insisted, perhaps a little too fast. D'Artagnan, who then didn't finish his sentence after being interrupted, just sighed and perched himself down on the bed.

“Sergeant,” he used the title softly but with an air of seriousness about it. “I know it's hard knowing that Aramis is going to testify today and everything, but you were in a coma just a couple of days ago. You really need to stay in bed.”

“I can't,” Athos responded honestly. “I really can't.”

There wasn't much point in lying to d'Artagnan about it anymore especially when, if he was going to get to the Palace of Justice, he would need d'Artagnan's help.

“Please, d'Artagnan, these past few months...everything has building up to this day. I'm the one who talked him into testifying in the first place. I have to be there. You might not understand, but I have to be there.”

“I do understand,” d'Artagnan told him sympathetically. “But you had a swollen brain and a collapsed lung, Athos, it's not just cuts and bruises. You've still got a skull fracture and broken bones.”

“Nothing will happen. You can push me in a wheelchair, it'll be no different to sitting up in bed.”

“I just don't think...”

Athos didn't want to talk about it anymore, they were already wasting precious time.

“I'm going to go. If you come with me or not, I'll get myself there. I can discharge myself from here whenever I like. So are you going to help me or not? Because, if you're not, you might as well leave and let me get on with it.”

D'Artagnan lowered his head and stared down at the floor. It made Athos feel slightly guilty for a moment, he was obviously causing d'Artagnan some distress but Aramis was the most important thing right now.

“You're not...” d'Artagnan looked up at him again. “...thinking straight. Aramis won't be happy to see you there, it'll freak him out. They want you to be here in the hospital, being looked after and getting yourself better.”

“D'Artagnan, I didn't ask for your opinion on my decision...”

Athos glanced up at the clock on the wall. The case was probably already about to start and they weren't even there yet. Athos was sick of talking about it, he needed to get going. So, as he was now dressed in everything but shoes, he carefully swung his legs off the bed on the opposite side to where d'Artagnan was sitting. The action immediately caused a spell of dizziness to hit him so he gripped onto the bed-sheet and waited for it to pass.

“Fucking hell, Athos.”

Whilst he heard d'Artagnan cursing but he didn't let it stop him, he began to slide off the bed.

“Wait, stop...”

D'Artagnan was quickly there, grabbing him by the arm and trying to help steady him.

“...for fucks sake, what are you doing? You're going to try walking now? You're insane. Don't make me call your mother.”

Athos' eyes instantly darted up to stare d'Artagnan in shock.

“What? Why would you do that?”

“Well I can't really,” d'Artagnan admitted sheepishly. “I don't have her number but Porthos told me to use that as a threat if I had to.”

D'Artagnan had obviously been prepped and Athos should have felt bad about it, but he didn't. He would defend d'Artagnan against Porthos if need be. All he wanted to do right in that moment was to get to the court-room in time.

“I'm going,” Athos said, about as seriously as he could muster considering how unsteady he felt. He stared at d'Artagnan as he did so to make sure that the young man knew how determined he was about it. The glare appeared to work because d'Artagnan then backed-down. He told Athos that, if he sat back down on the bed, he'd go and get a wheelchair. Athos was privately pleased about the suggestion because standing up felt pretty horrible. So he leaned back against the bed and d'Artagnan disappeared.

When d'Artagnan came back it was with a wheelchair and a new nurse who was frantically following d'Artagnan and asking him a load of questions. Athos mostly ignored her, he just focused on lowering himself down into the wheelchair after d'Artagnan pushed it close to the bed. Once he was in the chair and settled, without too much pain, he finally managed to tune in to the heated conversation.

“You're saying this to the wrong person!” D'Artagnan was telling her. “I don't want him to leave the hospital either but he does. So either give us whatever papers he has to sign or we'll just leave.”

“Why does he want to leave? We should really get a doctor to come in and talk to him. You can't just take one of the wheelchairs like that...”

Athos listened to them argue but didn't get involved. Eventually the nurse stormed out in a huff.

“I think we're just gonna have to leg-it,” d'Artagnan suggested, obviously concluding that he had just lost the argument with the nurse. “Or wheel it as the case may be. You ready to go?”

Athos nodded. He didn't exactly have anything to bring with him, he had nothing on him. He had no-idea where his phone or wallet had gone.

D'Artagnan pushed him towards the door and then peeked out into the corridor.

“Why do I suddenly feel like a criminal?” he whispered as he checked if it was safe to go.

“We're not criminals,” Athos pointed out. “We're not doing anything illegal. I'm allowed to discharge myself despite medical advice to the contrary. I don't care if we piss off the medical staff...”

“It's not the medical staff I'm worried about, it's your boyfriends!” D'Artagnan pointed out as he stepped back around the chair to grab the handles. There was a brief pause and a quiet sigh.

“Come on then.”

By some miracle they managed to slip-out without any further confrontations, even though d'Artagnan held them up for a while trying to figure out how to fold the wheelchair up and get it into the car. But Athos forced himself to wait patiently. D'Artagnan was doing him a huge favour and, now that the adrenaline rush was beginning to dissipate, Athos was starting to feel slightly bad about what he was getting the youngster involved with. Not bad enough to change his mind though.

When d'Artagnan joined him in the car and then drove them out of the hospital car-park Athos resting his head back carefully and turned to look at the young man.

“Thank you. I know I'm a very stubborn at times.”

D'Artagnan snorted but then smiled fondly.

“You're welcome, Sergeant. I'm just going to claim that I was following orders if anyone starts yelling at me.”

“Yes, please do that. I will take all of the blame.”

Athos smiled as well and then did his best to remain quiet for the rest of the journey, even when they got held up by rush-hour traffic.

It took a frustratingly long time to get to the Palace of Justice and, by the time they reached it, Athos felt slightly dizzy and nauseous even though he hadn't done anything apart from sit in the car. He was also starting to miss the morphine and wished that he had asked for a dose before leaving the hospital. But it was what it was now; they were there and they were running late.

D'Artagnan struggled to find somewhere to park so opted to make use of a disabled parking bay, pointing out that they had a wheelchair which surely counted? Athos kept his mouth shut about their lack of a disability badge, he'd personally pay the fine if it came to it.

By the time d'Artagnan found a backdoor with a ramp and then wheeled Athos around to the reception area, Athos was actually concerned that he might throw-up. He had to close his eyes for a while, trying to keep his breathing steady as d'Artagnan began to question the lady behind the reception desk about which court-room they needed to go to.

Once the feeling of nausea passed, Athos re-opened his eyes and carefully looked around the grand entrance hall. People were hurrying about, high-heels tapping loudly on the marble floor, frantic conversations going on between people in suits as they rushed past with briefcases. Athos had never noticed how high the ceiling was before, he could barely even see it unless he craned his neck back to a position which made him feel dizzy.

A couple of people gave him a puzzled glance as they walked past which made him feel slightly self-conscious. He was sitting in a wheelchair though, with a badly bruised face, wearing baggy trousers and a sweater which was too big for him, so perhaps it wasn't surprising that people were staring.

Athos homed in on the conversation d'Artagnan was having with the receptionist. She was telling him how to get to the elevators.

“...then on the first-floor you'll need to turn left, go around the corner and there will be a sign above the door saying 'Public gallery for Court-Room 2'. I don't know if it's a closed courtroom but just show the guard your police badge and he'll let you in.”

“Wonderful, thank you!”

Soon d'Artagnan was leaning over Athos, shoving a lanyard around his neck.

“Come on, she suggested that we watch from up in the public gallery and I think that's a very good idea.”

Athos didn't have the energy to argue. He wasn't sure if it was better if Aramis saw him or not but he wanted to be there, in the room, just in case. D'Artagnan wheeled him across the hallway and Athos kept his head down, not wanting to encourage more stares but his whole body rocked when the wheelchair abruptly stopped.

“Fuck,” d'Artagnan blurted out.

Athos lifted his head up and saw what had made d'Artagnan come to a halt. Gilles Charlet was standing there in a suit, with thick-rimmed black glasses and a smirk on his face. He had another large man with him who looked like a security-guard.

“Detective Sergeant de le Fere, you look...terrible,” Gilles commented and his smile just grew. “Did you have an unfortunate accident?”

Athos glared at him. Marsac's right-hand man, the one who they hadn't managed to pin anything on...yet.

“It's very sweet of you to come here to support your friend,” Athos quipped back. He wasn't going to be intimidated by the little shit.

“Of course,” Gilles nodded. “It'll be good to see him get let off. After all, you only have one pathetic drug-addict testifying and a prostitute who is in love with Marsac, so it's not exactly a strong case, is it? And of course sadly you couldn't testify, which was a big shame.”

There was something in his voice which made the hairs on the back of Athos' neck stand on end. Did Gilles have something to do with the assault? D'Artagnan obviously came to the same conclusion but, having far less self-control, immediately stepped forward to confront Gilles.

“If you had anything to do with what happened to my Sergeant...”

The large 'bodyguard' moved forward as well, trying to shield Gilles from d'Artagnan and intimate them both with his size but d'Artagnan wasn't one to cower.

“...I will personally make sure I'm the one to arrest you for it.”

“I don't know _what_ you're talking about,” Gilles insisted, but in a tone which heavily implied that he did. But the elevator-door pinged opened and that caught Gilles' attention. “Why don't we head up there together? Aramis is testifying today, that'll be interesting, won't it?”

“We'll get the next one,” d'Artagnan grumbled and stood firm as Gilles shrugged and disappeared with his back-up into the elevator. The second the doors closed d'Artagnan exploded.

“The fucking bastard! Did you hear that? Sounds like he was responsible for what happened to you. Fucking bastard. I'm going to get him, I promise you I'll get him.”

Athos now found himself in the position of being the calm one.

“D'Artagnan just...look I'm alive and Porthos managed to testify instead. Whatever Gilles wanted to achieve it didn't work. Let's just concentrate on the court-case, okay? I don't think I can cope with too much going on right now.”

That didn't seem to calm d'Artagnan down, he just huffed as he reached out to press for the elevator.

“It just makes me angry that they think they can beat the crap out of a cop and get away with it.”

“Intimidation and threats are only successful if you let it get it get to you and I refuse to do that.”

“Yeah I know,” d'Artagnan sighed.

By the time they managed to get into the public gallery the court-case had started. Athos could hear the voice of someone talking. D'Artagnan pushed Athos around to the side of the front row and parked up the wheelchair. Athos could barely see half of the court-room from his position but he at least had a good view of the jury sitting to the side, the front bench with the judge, the tables where the lawyers were sitting and the witness box. There was currently a man already sitting in the witness box who Athos vaguely recognised as being the doctor from the hospital a few months ago.

Athos glanced across the seats where they sat, surprised that so many people were sitting in the public gallery. Gilles was there, on the other side, leaning forward and listening. Athos' eyes scanned the rest of the small crowd. There was a whole row of people at the back, he didn't think that he knew any of them at first, mostly young women and a couple of men until...Pauline. Pauline was there sitting with them. Why was Pauline watching the trial? They did tell her about it, perhaps she was interested. But who were all of the people she was sitting with? The only other face Athos recognised in the gallery was that of M.Mathieu who was sitting with a woman around the same age, probably his wife. None of them noticed him staring, they were all too busy listening to the doctor.

Athos turned back. Having Pauline and Mathieu in the gallery gave him a feeling of comforting solidarity. He wasn't alone, they all wanted Marsac to be punished for what he had done. Even with Gilles sitting among them, Athos felt reassured that Aramis had plenty of support.

“...the pressure applied to his neck would have both impeded him from getting oxygen by preventing blood flow to and from the brain and also, because his trachea was restricted, it would have made breathing difficult or impossible. The combination quickly caused asphyxia and unconsciousness. He was still unconscious when he came into the hospital.”

“Thank you, doctor,” a female voice said and Athos saw the back of Anne's head as she stood in front of her table. “And you're certain that the cause of the strangulation was as the result of someone placing their fingers around the victim's neck?”

“Yes,” the doctor said. “The victim had bruising on his neck which strongly indicated that the damage was done by a human hand. Well two hands.”

“Thank you. If we can bring up picture 4...”

A large TV screen in the room just beside the judge's desk came to life and a photograph of a neck with black bruises came onto the screen. Aramis' neck, the one Athos had kissed many times.

“As you can see...may I go over to the screen?” The doctor asked the Judge and the Judge nodded his approval. The Judge was Jean Thureau-Dangin, a grey-haired man in his sixties. Athos had experienced many court-cases with him before. Athos liked him on the whole, he was stern and strict and didn't pull back the punches. He had, however, made a couple of surprising decisions in cases Athos had worked on the past which worried Athos a little but no judge was perfect.

The doctor then stood beside the computer-screen and pointed to the bruises, indicating which were made by thumbs and which were made by fingers. The evidence seemed pretty clear and Marsac's lawyer wasn't interrupting. As the doctor continued to give evidence Athos stared down at Marsac. He could only really see the back of his head and sometimes the side of his face when he turned to whisper to his lawyer. The man who had strangled Aramis was now sitting there watching the reality of what he had done stare him straight in the face and he didn't look at all concerned.

As the doctor continued to talk about Aramis' bruises, Athos began to wonder where Aramis was. They probably had him in a waiting room somewhere, hopefully with Porthos and Constance trying to keep him calm. Athos wanted to be with them. He wanted to tell Aramis to be brave. He wanted to hold him tightly before he had to step into the court-room so that the feeling of Athos' arms would linger on him to remind him that he was safe. But Athos knew that he couldn't go and see Aramis. D'Artagnan was right, it was better to stay out of sight for the moment, so that Aramis wouldn't worry.

Anne appeared to be finished with the doctor and it was time for Marsac's lawyer to take over the questioning but the lawyer just shook his head. Athos was surprised that the lawyer had no questions but then Anne had predicted that they wouldn't contest the fact Marsac has assaulted Aramis, just the reason behind why he did it.

“Then we will take a twenty minute break,” the Judge said before 'all rise' rang out and everyone down below stood as the Judge left his seat and headed out.

“It'll be Aramis next,” Athos whispered across to d'Artagnan who nodded back.

Athos wanted to be left alone during the break and tried to curl up in his wheelchair to make himself look invisible but Mathieu must have noticed him because he came over and crouched down beside the chair.

“Detective, I almost didn't recongise you. Did you have an accident?”

Athos didn't want to explain what had happened and Aramis obviously hadn't seen M. Mathieu to tell him about the assault yet, so Athos just nodded.

“I'm fine. It's very kind of you to have come to support Aramis.”

The Italian chef shrugged.

“It took me a while to get Aramis to even tell me why he wanted the week off work then, when he told me, I wanted to scream. That man...” Mathieu pointed in the vague direction of the court-room down below. “...needs to be locked off for what he to Aramis, and to all of the others. I pray to God that the judge and the jury will see sense.”

“I hope so as well,” Athos said and tried to smile.

Mathieu then placed a gentle hand on Athos' shoulder.

“Do you need anything? Water? Coffee?”

“No I'm fine, thank you.”

“Alright. I'm just sitting back there with my wife. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will, thank you.”

Mathieu smiled at d'Artagnan before leaving. Athos rubbed his hand over his face, wishing that he felt more awake, perhaps turning down the coffee was a bad idea. Another bad idea was rubbing his face because, the second his fingers touched his broken nose, a sharp pain made him flinch.

“You alright?” d'Artagnan asked concerned.

“I'm fine,” Athos lied. He just needed to get through another couple of hours. Aramis would be coming out next. This was it, this was the moment.

The Judge and jury eventually reappeared and the next witness was called. Athos sat up straight, ignoring the sharp pain in his ribs as he did so and watched, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, as Aramis walked down the middle of the court-room towards the witness box. He was wearing his work clothes; black trousers, white shirt and a black tie. He was squeezing his hands tightly in front of himself and walking hurriedly, his body language clearly displaying his nerves. The sight of it made Athos feel sick to his stomach.

 


	57. The Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [I wanted to get this chapter out as quickly as I could! Please forgive me for any legal inaccuracies, I have tried my best.]

Be brave, be brave, you can do it...Athos was talking to himself but he hoped that Aramis could somehow hear him.

Aramis looked so vulnerable and alone standing in the large witness box. They made him swear in and confirm his name, which of course was René d'Herblay, Athos was so used to calling him Aramis that he often forget that it wasn't his legal name. Then Aramis sat down and appeared to watch nervously as Anne walked around the table to face him. Athos could only see the back of Anne's head but he hoped that she was smiling at Aramis, doing her part to help him relax.

“René, we'll start by talking about what happened on the Thursday 16h September. Can you tell me where you were that evening?”

“Yes, I was-I was at work.”

Aramis' voice was barely audible and Athos, even from up on the balcony, could see that his leg was bouncing up and down. It was the same one which he could never keep still when he was nervous in their meetings with Ninon. Athos wished that he could reach out and soothe him.

“And where was work?”

“I worked at a brothel. House number 2 on Rue du Prony.”

“And what did you do at work, René?”

Aramis paused for a moment, rubbing his hands together over his lap. At least he was focusing on Anne, Athos realised, he hadn't looked at Marsac yet. He hoped that Porthos was sitting down below somewhere so that Aramis had a clear view of him if he needed some reassurance.

“I-I had sex with people.”

“You were a sex worker?” Anne clarified which just made Aramis nod.

“So, you were at the brothel on Thursday 16th September and what happened?”

“I-I...Athos...no....D-Detective Sergeant de le Fere had asked me to call him if Gilles...Gilles Charlet came to the brothel...he...no I...”

Aramis was stuttering over his words and clearly agitated. It pained Athos to hear him like that. They'd only just started and he was already all over the place. Athos could feel his heart beating hard in his chest, anxiety rising as he realised that it was already going wrong. Aramis needed to calm himself down or it was going to be a disaster.

Anne stepped closer to the witness box.

“It's alright, René, take your time. Let's just pause for a moment.”

Aramis nodded but then he glanced across at Marsac. Athos cringed, wishing that he could shout down to Aramis not to look, it wouldn't help. Thankfully Aramis only kept his gaze on Marsac for a second before he took in a deep lungful of air and then exhaled it slowly. That did seem to help because his voice sounded louder and more confident when he spoke again.

“The Detective asked me to let him know if Gilles Charlet came to the brothel because they were looking for him and had lost him. So, when Gilles turned up, I had sex with him and then Gilles started smoking out of the window. So I went into the bathroom down the hallway to call Detective Sergeant de le Fere.”

“Yes, we've already had Detective du Vallon testifying that you were feeding the police information. Is that true?”

Aramis nodded once more and almost turned to look at Marsac again but then appeared to catch himself. His leg was still bouncing furiously.

“Then what happened?”

“I had a quick conversation with the Detective on the phone then I went back into the room. I tried to seduce Gilles into having sex with me again because...because I wanted to make sure that he stayed there.”

Athos knew that Aramis must be feeling terrified sitting up there facing Marsac and telling everyone his secrets but he was doing such a good job, Athos felt so proud of him.

“And how long did he stay there for?”

“I-I don't know. Maybe...well not long. The police showed up and arrested him.”

“They arrested Gilles Charlet?”

“Yes.”

“And did they say anything to you?”

Aramis shook his head. 

“But then...then one of the other workers, Hugo, started yelling at me. He said that he heard me on the phone telling someone that Gilles was there. He called me...stuff, I can't remember.”

“Can you try and remember for me?” Anne requested but Aramis just looked upset and shook his head, like he didn't want to remember. Athos hoped that Anne wouldn't force him to.

“Then what happened?”

“Nashiko, she was the madame of the brothel, she told me that she was calling Marsac.”

“Marsac who, René?”

“Marsac Leveque.”

“Thank you. Why would she call Marsac Leveque?”

“Because he owned the brothel. He was our pimp.”

Athos was pleased to notice that Aramis' body language was starting to calm down. His leg had stopped bouncing and, although he was still rubbing his hands together, his shoulders looked less tense.

“Did you hear Nashiko call Marsac?”

Aramis shook his head.

“What happened next?”

“I had to stay in the main room to wait. Nashiko told me to wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“For Marsac. He came about fifteen minutes later. He came into the room and told me to give him my phone. So I got it out of my pocket but he just snatched out of my hand. He called the last number I had dialed...”

“Okay, René, hold on a minute. Can I just remind the jury...” She turned to face the jury box where they all sat. “...that the phone records which Detective du Vallon provided earlier this week did prove that two calls were made from René's phone that evening, both to Detective Sergeant de la Fere.” 

She turned back to Aramis. 

“And what happened then?”

“Well, he had it on speaker and Athos...the Detective de la Fere answered the phone but he called himself Detective Sergeant de la Fere so Marsac hung up knowing that I had phoned the police and he got all mad.”

“What do you mean by mad?”

“Angry...”

“What did he do which made you think that he was angry?”

Aramis stopped talking and exhaled quickly. Then he reached up and ran his fingers through his hair before rubbing his hands on his trousers. Athos assumed that his palms were sweaty. You're doing so well. He desperately wished that he could call out some encouragement. So well, keep going.

“He yelled. He said to me, 'After everything I've done for you, you fucking bastard' and stuff like that. He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out of the brothel.”

“He forced you out of the house?”

Aramis nodded.

“Did you want to go?”

Aramis shook his head furiously. His eyes were starting to fill up, Athos could see them glistening with tears even from all the way up in the balcony.

“Did you try and stop him?”

“I-I don't know. I didn't want to go. But he-my arm, he was hurting my arm. He told me to get into the car, his car which was outside parked on the street. So I did. I just did whatever he said.”

“Why? If you didn't want to go, why did you go with him?”

“B-because....”

Athos closed his eyes as he waited for the punch - 'Because I loved him' - he knew it was coming. He knew that Aramis wouldn't be-able to keep quiet about it.

“Because I was scared.”

Athos flung his eyes open again. That wasn't what he had been expecting Aramis to say at all. 

“I couldn't get away because I was scared about what he'd do if I tried to run. So I just did whatever he said.”

“Why were you scared of him, René?”

“Objection!” Came the shout of a man which made Athos jump in his wheelchair. The call had come from Marsac's lawyer who was now standing up. “She's focusing on emotions and not on fact.”

The Judge grunted. 

“Emotions are relevant as to why the witness didn't run but I do agree that we have now established that fear was the factor. Move on, please.”

Athos could see the side of Anne's face as she glared at Marsac's lawyer, not looking best pleased at being interrupted but she appeared to brush it off quickly. 

“René, so you got into Marsac's car. Who was driving and where did you go?”

“Marsac drove and we went to his house.”

Anne asked Aramis to confirm the address of the house, which Aramis did. 

“Carry on, René, what happened next?”

Aramis paused for a moment and Athos knew why because Athos knew exactly what was coming next. His mind went back to the time when Aramis used to deny even remembering the assault. Then, a while later, Athos began to realise that perhaps Aramis remembered more than he was letting on but Aramis was now going to have to talk about it in front of a room full of people who were all staring at him. Athos waited with a feeling of nausea in his stomach to see if Aramis could do it.

“He dragged me upstairs. I thought he was going to...” Aramis paused and fidgeted in his chair for a second. Athos briefly wondered what he was going to say but then Aramis appeared to change his mind. “...but he-he just kept on yelling. Saying that he loved me, telling me that I'd betrayed him. He asked me why I had done it. He wanted me to tell him why but I couldn't speak. He got even more angry when I didn't say anything and so he hit me.” Aramis' voice was beginning to wobble. “He punched me in the face a couple of times. I staggered backwards until I hit a wall. He was still yelling...he wouldn't stop yelling.”

Aramis made a squeaking noise before leaning forward, covering his face with his hands.

“René, it's okay, take your time,” Anne said sympathetically. 

Even the Judge patiently waited in silence as Aramis sat there with his hands hiding his face. Athos watched helplessly from the balcony, unable to do anything.

“Are you able to continue, M. d'Herblay?” The Judge asked after he had given Aramis a couple of minutes to compose himself. Aramis nodded and lowered his hands down. His cheeks were wet with tears and Athos wished someone would pass him a tissue. Instead Aramis used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the tears away. Athos wanted nothing more than, in that moment, to take Aramis home. To wash his shirt clean and to hold him until he felt safe again. But there was nothing he could do, he had to just let it continue, this thing he had started, talking Aramis into testifying... 

“René, what happened next?”

Aramis took in a deep breath, obviously trying to gain control of his emotions again. Then he looked out across the room as if he was searching for someone...Porthos. Athos hoped that Porthos was sitting somewhere Aramis could easily see him and he must have been because Aramis' eyes lit up for the briefest of moments before he turned back to Anne again.

“I was against the wall in the main bedroom and Marsac suddenly grabbed me around my neck and squeezed. It really hurt. I tried to push him away but I couldn't get him to let go. I tried to say his name but I couldn't speak because he was squeezing my neck so tightly. I shoved at his chest, I was panicking but he just kept on squeezing until I couldn't breathe...it was really scary because I couldn't breathe. Then I woke up in the hospital.”

“René, did Marsac say anything to you whilst he was squeezing your neck?”

Aramis shook his head slowly.

“No, he just...he was angry.”

“Did he at any point stop?”

“No he...I tried to get him to stop but he didn't. But then I woke up in the hospital, so I don't know what happened. He must have stopped eventually...I suppose.”

“Was there anyone else in the house with you?”

“No. Not that I know of.”

“And where was your phone?”

“Marsac still had it.”

“So you were alone, no-one else was in the room?”

“No, it was just me and Marsac, no-one else was there.”

“So you couldn't call for help. Do you remember the police coming in?”

“No, I...I just woke up in the hospital.”

“Thank you, René, I have no further questions, Monsieur le Président.”

Athos was surprised that Anne ended things there. He had assumed that she'd go into Aramis' past and talk about his history with Marsac but she just walked around the table and sat down. Perhaps something had changed since Athos had last spoken to her, perhaps she thought that they had covered that subject enough with all of the other evidence and didn't want to put Aramis through more than she needed to.

Now came the worst part. The part which they had all been dreading; Marsac's lawyer now had his chance to question Aramis. The lawyer stood up, tugged at the jacket of his suit and walked around the table to face Aramis.

“René, I believe that you prefer to be called Aramis. Can I call you Aramis?”

The lawyer sounded cocky and Athos already hated him. No you can't call him Aramis, you dick. You can't call him anything. Don't even talk to him. But Aramis just shrugged and didn't really say anything which didn't seem deter the lawyer. 

“Aramis then, tell me about your relationship with my client.”

Aramis just stared at the man for a moment. Athos wasn't sure if he didn't understand the question or maybe he wasn't in the mood to talk to Marsac's lawyer. Either way he remained silent.

“Okay, let's make this easier. Were you in a relationship with my client?”

Aramis continued to just sit there which prompted the Judge to have to intervene.

“You need to answer the questions, young man.” 

Aramis frowned but nodded.

“Can you describe the relationship?”

“We were in love,” Aramis said finally. Athos knew it was coming, he had been expecting it earlier but somehow it seemed to matter less now. Who cares if they were in love? Marsac still tried to kill him.

“I see. So, he was allegedly your pimp, but you were also in love?”

Aramis nodded again. The Judge leaned forwards to talk to him once again.

“M. d'Herblay, it's better if you answer yes or no to the questions so that your answers can be recorded properly. It makes it tricky when you just shake or nod your head.”

Aramis glanced at the judge.

“S-sorry. Yes.”

“That must have been complicated. Aramis, when you had sex with people who then gave you money for your services, who did you give the money to?”

“Nashiko.”

“The Madame of the brothel? And who did she give it to?”

“Gilles.”

“Ah, the Gilles you mentioned earlier?”

Aramis nodded before remembering to speak like the Judge had requested. “Yes.”

“So, the money you got from illegal means you passed onto the madame of the brothel who then gave it to this Gilles? I'm failing to see where my client comes into this. Did my client ever take your money?”

“No...well...it didn't work like that.”

“So he never touched the money you made in the brothel?”

“Well, I think he did eventually. I don't know.”

“How did you get paid? I mean, I assume you got some sort of wage for your work?”

“No I-I didn't. I mean...Marsac paid for my apartment and he brought me clothes. Oh, he did give me cash for food sometimes, yeah he did that...w-when he remembered.”

“So my client helped you out? And where did that money come from?”

“I-I don't know...it was his money.”

“His money? Not your money?”

“I-I don't know..I don't know how it worked.”

Aramis was floundering with the questions which Athos forgave him for because Aramis probably didn't actually have a clue where his money went and who took what. 

“But you two were in a relationship, right? I mean you were in love? You were both boyfriends I suppose if you want to call it that. So it would make sense that he'd help you out sometimes and make sure that you had a place to live and that you were eating, wouldn't it? Because he cared about you.”

Anne stood up. “ Monsieur le Président, he's not even asking a clear question.”

“I agree,” The Judge grunted. “Counsellor, please ask a question or move on.”

The lawyer nodded and tugged at his jacket again.

“My apologies, I'm just trying to establish the relationship between my client and this witness. It sounds like a rather mutual relationship to me, not one of a pimp and a prostitute. How would you describe it, Aramis?”

“He-he was my pimp,” Aramis' small voice attempted to protest.

“But you were both in love, in a serious relationship, and you didn't give him any of the money which you earned?”

“No, not when I was in the brothels. I did before, when I was working on the streets.”

“Ah yes, when you were working on the streets. When you personally recruited other sex workers and took their earning off them?”

Aramis looked stunned and his eyes searched for someone in the room again, probably Porthos. Athos knew that Porthos would be thinking the same that he was, they were fucked if Marsac's lawyer went down that road. It made Aramis sound as bad as Marsac even though they both knew that it was far more complicated than that, far, far more complicated. 

Aramis didn't say anything, he just looked worried. By some saving grace Marsac's lawyer didn't push him on it.

“Look, it doesn't matter. I'm just trying to establish the type of relationship you had with my client and point out that it was an equal one. How long have you known each other?”

That was a question Aramis seemed to find easier to answer. 

“Since I was a teenager.”

“So, over ten years? And you were in love all of that time?”

Aramis nodded and then grimaced as he obviously reminded himself once again to speak out and say 'yes'.

“Okay, over ten years, wow okay. So you two were in a very serious relationship. So now let's think about Thursday 16th September. How long had you been feeding information to the police for by this time?”

“I-I don't know,” Aramis admitted. “A few weeks.”

“And why were you doing it?”

“Because...” Aramis stopped speaking then. It was like torture watching Aramis have to answer all of the questions about things he never liked to talk about. But he was doing it, he was answering them. “...because I was worried about him. It's...complicated.”

“Oh, we have the time to listen. Go ahead, please explain.”

Aramis glanced across at Anne for help but she obviously just shrugged helplessly at him or something because he swallowed and turned back to Marsac's lawyer.

“He changed. He was always angry and he was doing bad things to people. I wanted him to stop.”

“So, you decided to feed information to the police because you wanted him to 'stop'?”

“Yes.”

“Was the information you were telling the police true?”

“Yes.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Not much. Just...I gave them a list of contacts from his phone. I told them about a phone conversation he had with someone. That's it...yeah that's it really I think. I can't really remember.”

“That doesn't sound like much to arrest someone for?”

“No I...they had other stuff as well. I don't really know. I-I don't know...I don't know much about all of that.”

“That's okay, Aramis, we've already heard from the police. So, on the night of September 16th, your serious boyfriend of over ten years found out that you were trying to get him arrested. Is that true?”

“I-I guess...yes.”

“And he got angry you said?”

“Yes.”

“Do you blame him?”

Anne immediately jumped up. “Objection! What sort of a question is that to ask the victim of a serious assault?”

Before the Judge could say anything the lawyer turned to face her and put his hands up defensively.

“Sorry, you're right, I apologise. Aramis, forget that question and answer me this one; had my client ever hurt you before that night?”

Aramis paused as if he was thinking about it, or he was just puzzled about what was going on. The truth was that Marsac had hurt Aramis his entire life, used him and abused him, manipulated him and controlled him. But Athos knew that Aramis still didn't see it that way so he wasn't surprised when the answer came out as...

“No.”

“So my client had never hit you before? Or attacked you physically in any way before that night?”

“No.”

“So you weren't in what you'd consider to be a physically abusive relationship?”

Aramis shook his head.

“So why do you think that he hurt you that night?”

“Monsieur le Président,” Anne interrupted. “...he's asking the witness to try and guess the mind-set of his client which is impossible.”

“Counsellor, please rephrase your question.”

“Aramis, did Marsac appear shocked when he discovered that you were helping the police?”

“Yes, he was shocked.”

“And how would you feel if you found out your long-term boyfriend, the person that you really loved, had been working with the police behind your back to get you arrested? Which he could have, considering we've already established your illegal practices...”

“Monsieur le Président...” Anne was trying to stop what was being said but Marsac's lawyer just spoke over her.

“He told you that he felt betrayed. Do you blame him? If you suddenly find out that the person that you had loved your entire adult life has been working with the police against you, you would feel betrayed if you found that out, wouldn't you? You'd feel hurt, shocked and confused, wouldn't you?”

“Monsieur le Président...”

“And he has never hurt you before. So it was just this one night, the night he found out what you had been doing. That you had gone behind his back to the police, you were working with the police to get him arrested even though he loved you more than anything in the world. Do you think it was the shock which made him react the way he did, Aramis?”

Aramis' eyes were darting between Marsac's lawyer and Anne, as if pleading for her help but Marsac's lawyer wouldn't stop and the Judge was letting it happen.

“Do you think he was in his right mind when he attacked you? Do you think he meant to really hurt you?”

“I-I d-don't know,” Aramis stammered. His eyes were wide like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Stop this, Athos thought, it's getting out of control. His hands gripped onto the arms of the wheelchair, he wanted to scream down at the Judge. Why wasn't the Judge stopping it?

“Monsieur le Président!” Anne was almost shouting now, trying to encourage the Judge to step in. But Marsac's lawyer just spoke even louder, filling the entire room with his voice.

“Was he really trying to kill you, Aramis?”

The Judge finally spoke but he was speaking to Anne.

“I'm letting it continue.”

“Do you think he was trying to kill you, Aramis?”

“No!” Aramis yelled and it silenced the whole room. 

Fuck.

“No,” Aramis repeated again, this time quieter, his voice shaking. “H-he loved me. He'd never try and kill me. I never said that he tried to kill me.” His head dropped and he looked down at his lap. “It was my fault he was angry. I don't want to answer anymore questions. Please...please...”

Athos sunk down into the wheelchair and sighed. Marsac's lawyer was leaning across the table and talking to Marsac. Anne was whispering to the person she was sitting next to. Everyone was ignoring Aramis who still hadn't looked back up. 

“Counsellor, do you have any further questions?”

There was a painfully long pause before Marsac's lawyer turned back to the Judge.

“I have no further questions at this time.” 

A break was announced, everyone stood up as the Judge left and a guard went up to Aramis to encourage him to step out of the witness box. Quiet murmuring broke out around the court-room which encouraged d'Artagnan to lean over and whisper.

“It doesn't matter what he just said. The fact is, he did almost kill Aramis, it doesn't matter if he meant to or not, right?”

“It might matter,” Athos pointed out with a sigh. “It could change the charge from attempted murder to grievous bodily harm which comes with a lighter sentence. But I suppose we should be grateful that Marsac isn't denying what he did to Aramis.”

D'Artagnan nodded then looked Athos up and down.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I want to curl up underneath blankets and hide there forever,” Athos muttered, thinking about when Aramis had told him the same thing. Perhaps they could do it together.

“He did really well,” d'Artangan commented. “That lawyer's just a bastard.”

There was movement in the balcony and Athos watched as Gilles, now looking a little less confident, hurried towards the door followed by his bodyguard. Athos wasn't surprised that Gilles was promptly leaving considering how many times his name had just come up in a court-room. Not so cocky now.

“What's next?” d'Artagnan asked. “Is there another witness?”

“No,” Athos responded. “Not that I know of. It's Marsac's time to shine now.”

“You want to be here for that?” 

Athos did but he also knew that he wanted to be there for Aramis. Aramis was done now, they'd let him go home which meant Porthos would go with him. Or would they go straight to the hospital where Athos wouldn't be.

“I don't know,” Athos admitted, conflicted. 

“I think maybe, given the circumstances, we should get you back to the hospital,” d'Artagnan suggested. “I don't think we really need to sit here listening to Marsac go on about how he wasn't a pimp and he loved Aramis and he never meant to hurt him and all that bullshit. That's not going to make you feel better.”

D'Artagnan really was right, Athos realised. It was bad enough listening to guilty people plead their innocence but, on this occasion, he was so close to the case it would be infuriating. He didn't want to listen to it.

“You're right, we should leave.”

If d'Artagnan was pleased that he was finally being listened to he made no big show of it. He just got up and took the brakes off the wheelchair to pull Athos backwards and turn him around. Athos caught a glimpse of Pauline and the people she was sitting with all talking to each other before d'Artagnan pushed him out of the side-door into the hallway.

“I wonder who all of those people on the back-row were,” he mused out-loud. 

“Sex-workers I think,” d'Artangnan answered. Athos was surprised that d'Artangnan knew and strained his now sore head to look up at him. “I recongised a couple of them.”

That was interesting. 

“Yes, I recognised one as well. It's a shame they aren't all testifying,” Athos pointed out. “That would have helped.”

“Well, it's not as easy as that, is it? I guess they came to support Aramis and Alexei, which is something.”

D'Artagnan had a point. It was a surprise to even see Pauline there. He wondered if, with Porthos' help, she had managed to get back in contact with some of her old 'colleagues'. Perhaps one of the ladies she was sitting was Sophie who she had been so keen to find and thank. He hoped so, he wanted something good to come out of the whole case.

“Right, now the question is, how do we get you back to the hospital and into the same room without Porthos finding out what we did?” d'Artagnan asked. “I bet they've given the room to someone else since our escape.”

“I don't really think that I need to go back to the hospital. We could just pretend that I was discharged, you could take me home...”

“No, don't even, Athos, don't even,” d'Artagnan said so sternly that Athos had the sense not to argue and kept his mouth shut as d'Artagnan took him down the elevator.

“Did you see Gilles make a quick exit?” D'Artagnan said in the elevator with a smile. “I guess he could see that things were going downhill. Aramis did well, you know. He did really well. Make sure Porthos tells him that.”

“I'm sure he already has,” Athos said, although he was somewhat worried that Aramis might not see it that way but d'Artagnan was right, he had done really well. He had spoken clearly and honestly and they couldn't have asked him for more than that.

When they reached the ground floor Athos began to pay attention to a dull ache he was experiencing in his lower back. He knew that his kidneys were bruised so put it to down to that but, just in case, he asked d'Artagnan to take him to the toilets. 

“We really just need to get out of here,” d'Artagnan pointed out. “But I also don't want you wetting yourself.”

D'Artagnan asked various strangers where the men's room was but eventually accidentally stumbled upon a disabled toilet. D'Artagnan opened the door and all but shoved the wheelchair inside.

“I'll wait out here, yell if you need me.”

Then the door closed and Athos was left on his own. He struggled to get the wheelchair over to the toilet when he only had use of one arm, only to then come across the further issue of facing the wrong way around. It took more even more effort to pull his trousers down and then sit himself on the toilet-seat. In fact d'Artagnan was already asking if he had finished before he had even started.

“Not yet!” Athos yelled back quickly to stop d'Artagnan from opening the door.

“Hurry up!” Came the unhelpful response.

Athos sighed. As he sat there he couldn't help but feel relieved that the hardest part of the trial was now over. Porthos had given evidence and now Aramis had done the same. Even if Aramis was distressed by the whole ordeal, they would be there to comfort him and soothe him. It would be okay, whatever happened, it was over, Aramis had done it. Now it was down to the lawyers, the jury and the Judge, there was nothing more they could do.

Athos, pulling his mind back to the moment in hand, eventually got himself off the toilet and was washing his hands when d'Artagnan interrupted him for a second time.

“You done yet?”

“Yes,” Athos said after he had wiped his hands dry with paper-towels. He wanted to wash his hands four more times, in fact he was rather desperate to but he suspected that would cause d'Artagnan to have a fit so he tried his very hardest to ignore the urge. D'Artagnan burst in, grabbed his wheelchair and shoved him out before he could do anything anyway.

When they got to the car-park d'Artagnan helped Athos into the passenger-seat and then set about trying to remember how to fold-up the wheelchair again. Athos closed his eyes, utterly exhausted by the mornings events. He was very glad that he had escaped the hospital to come but he knew that his body would punish him for it later, it already felt like it was.

“What the fuck?!” Came a booming voice a few seconds later which caused Athos' eyes to spring open. 

A large figure was standing in front the car facing d'Artagnan. The young Detective was backing away from whoever it was. Athos' chest immediately tightened and he sat up in the seat, a flashback to being jumped on in the station car-park suddenly hit him like a freight-train. He felt the pain of being hit in the head so vividly that he reached up to touch the sore spot on the back of his skull before a wave of dizziness hit him. Only, in his slight delirium, he began to realise that he recongised the outfit on the man. He leaned forward in the seat and finally managed to get a good look at who it was...Porthos. 

Porthos was so angry that he wasn't even speaking, which Athos knew was a bad sign. D'Artagnan was just standing there as well, his mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something but he wasn't sure where to start. Athos knew that he had to break the silence, it was all his fault after all. As the car-door was open he spoke loud enough for Porthos to hear.

“Please don't blame, d'Artagnan, I forced him to take me here. I had to be here, Porthos, you must understand.”

Porthos' head turned slightly to look at Athos in the car but he didn't say anything. His chest was heaving though and, from that, Athos could tell that he was not a happy man. 

“I'm sorry,” Athos then attempted, although he suspected that an apology wasn't going to get him very far.

Porthos turned his head away from Athos and continued to stare down d'Artagnan who began to rightfully cower under the furious glare.

“I asked you...” Porthos spoke very slowly, wanting to make sure that every single word he was said came across clearly. “...to look after him.”

“I am,” d'Artagnan said, his voice sounding very weak. “But he was really stubborn and insistent.”

“It's not d'Artagnan's fault,” Athos insisted, wishing that he still had the wheelchair beside the car so he could get out. “Porthos, I'm sorry. I had to be there. I couldn't just sit in hospital whilst Aramis was giving evidence, I never would have forgiven myself if I had missed it...”

His protests were stopped when Porthos shoved d'Artagnan out of the way and came around the side of the car. Athos waited. Porthos crouched down beside the open car-door and Athos resisted the urge to throw himself into his boyfriends arms as he was so pleased to see Porthos again, despite Porthos' clear annoyance. But he knew that any sort of throwing in his current state wouldn't be a good idea so he resisted.

Porthos, however, actually sounded calm as he spoke.

“Athos, I love you, but sometimes I wish you were less...single-minded. It was hard enough was it as but I kept on telling myself that at least you were safe and being looked after and now I find that you're here, you fucking...”

“I'm fine,” Athos promised. “I just came for Aramis' testimony and I made sure that I stayed out of the way so that he wouldn't see me.” Okay, so that had been d'Artagnan's idea but, even so, Athos decided to take the credit for the sensible idea.

Porthos sighed, reached out and placed his hand over Athos' plastered arm.

“I'm so angry at you but I can't even yell at you because you look so pale and bruised and pathetic right now. You infuriate me but god I still love you. But you'd better get your ill arse back to hospital right this second or I swear I will lose it.

Athos nodded but, as Porthos began to pull his hand away, he jerked forward to stop him.

“How's Aramis?”

Porthos sighed and temporarily remained in his uncomfortable looking crouching position.

“I...I don't know. He's very quiet. Constance and I tried to reassure him but he's not talking. I need to get him out of here.”

“I want to come with you,” Athos pleaded. He didn't want to go back to the hospital if Aramis needed him.

“Well we weren't going home, you stupid idiot, we were going to the hospital to see you! So you'd better get your arse back to the hospital quickly before Aramis finds out that you were here.”

“He doesn't know?”

Porthos glanced over his shoulder like he was checking for something.

“I don't know. I saw d'Artagnan in the distance and told Aramis I'd be back in a minute. I need to get back to him, Athos, I can't look after both you of right now, I just can't...”

Athos nodded, understanding, Porthos was at his limit and Athos wasn't helping. He felt bad about it then, about what he was putting Porthos through.

“I know, go. I'll go back to the hospital, I promise. Just take a long route there. Aramis might appreciate a bit of quiet time in the car.”

Porthos appeared to be thankful and gave Athos' cold fingers a squeeze.

“Alright I'll see you soon you and, just so you know, I'm still seriously pissed off but we'll talk about it later.”

Well, not quite forgiven yet then. Porthos leaned forward and kissed Athos' forehead though because he was still Porthos and then gave d'Artagnan a snarl for good measure.

"Take me back to the hospital," Athos requested when d'Artagnan eventually got into the car.

 


	58. The Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Have a super-long and very emotional chapter as an apology for taking so long to post again]

“Sorry,” Athos offered his apology to d'Artagnan once the younger detective was finally inside the car.

“No you're not,” came the muted response, which just confirmed to Athos that he had a lot of making up to do.

As a way of avoiding any sort of awkward conversation as d'Artagnan drove towards the exit of the car-park, Athos moved to pull his phone out of his pocket only to remember that he hadn't seen his phone since the night he was attacked. He was just building up to getting annoyed about it when their escape was halted by Porthos seemingly jumping out from no-where and waving his arms at them wildly.

D'Artagnan stopped the car and wound down the window.

“What's...”

D'Artagnan was unable to finish because Porthos cut him off by frantically speaking.

“I can't find him! He's gone!”

“Who's gone...Aramis?”

“Yes fucking Aramis! I came back to the car and he's gone! I don't know where...”

Athos was immediately gripped by silent panic. The only sound was blood pounding in his ears and his heart thumping in his chest. Gone...how could he be gone? Gone where?

D'Artagnan undid his seat-belt and jumped out of the car leaving Athos sitting there alone. Athos still couldn't move in his seat, there was pain building in his chest not caused by the broken ribs.

“Calm down, it's okay,” d'Artagnan was speaking to Porthos outside. “He might have just gone back into the court-house. Why don't you go and look there and I'll drive around the car-park, okay?”

Athos wanted to get out of the car as well but his first attempt at movement just made his damaged body protest. But then he heard another noise above the blood rushing in his ears. It was tires, somewhere in the distance. There was just something about it which caused Athos to immediately pay attention.

“D'Artagnan!” he called, unsure if they could even hear him.

He opened his car-door in an attempt to get out and heard the tires again; they were screeching like they were trying to get away quickly. It gave him a sickening feeling in his stomach.

“D'Artagnan, get back into the car!” he yelled in a state of panic.

D'Artagnan did hear and didn't even question the instruction, he just did as he was told.

“Someone is trying to leave in a hurray, we need to follow them,” Athos suggested and then leaned across d'Artagnan as much so he could to speak to Porthos through the open window. “Check in the court-house just in case. If you find him, call us.”

Porthos opened his mouth to speak but d'Artagnan didn't give him a chance to say anything because it was now their tires which were screeching as he accelerated and headed straight for the exit. As d'Artagnan turned the corner they saw the back-end of an ominous black van leaving the barriers and driving out of the car-park.

“Follow it,” Athos instructed.

“Why? Do you think that...”

“I don't know,” Athos said, cutting d'Artagnan short because he didn't want d'Artagnan to say it but he had a gut-feeling. A sickening, horrible gut-feeling.

“We should radio it in,” d'Artagnan suggested as he headed for the same barrier. “Get some back-up.”

Athos knew that d'Artagnan was talking sense so he reached forward and turned on the police radio.

“This is Delta two-five, possible kidnapping in progress at the Palais de Justice de Paris. Black van, partial number plate AN-154. We are in pursuit but may need armed assistance.”

The radio crackled into life and he immediately got a response from the call-centre.

“Understood, Delta two-five. If you lead with directions, I'll dispatch armed units to assist.”

Kidnapping, there, he had to say it.

Athos did his best to give directions but his hand was shaking. D'Artagnan at least did a good job of keeping up with the van, sometimes letting a couple of cars get between them but never losing sight of it. The van wasn't speeding, if it was what Athos thought, they obviously didn't know that they were being followed.

“Delta Two-Five, turn to channel four. I have units Romeo One and Romeo Five heading in your direction. You can co-ordinate the pursuit on channel four.”

Athos flicked to the right channel. He knew Romeo One was Deacon, the head of the armed response unit. Knowing that Deacon was backing him up made Athos feel a little better, if that was at all possible.

“This is Delta two-five,” he said into the radio. “We've just come from the courthouse and there's a possibility that an adult male witness was forced into the back of a black van, partial registration AN-154 current going West on Quai Voltaire. Kidnappers could be armed and dangerous. We are in pursuit in an unmarked car without our blues.”

“Roger that Delta two-five. We'll be there in less than ten minutes, hold tight.” Athos recongised Deacon's voice.

“Should I put the lights on?”D'Artagnan asked.

“No, if that is Gilles and his bodyguard and they've got Aramis, that'll just give them reason to try and escape. It's better that they don't know they're being followed.”

“Do you really think they've taken Aramis?”

“I don't know,” Athos admitted. It could have been punishment for Marsac, or to stop Aramis from talking more about Gilles, there were plenty of reasons as to why Gilles would want to get hold of Aramis. But Athos hoped that he was wrong, he really hoped that he was wrong.

“My phone is ringing,” d'Artaganan pointed out and shifted in his seat, his hands never leaving the steering-wheels and eyes never coming off the road like he was trained. “Can you get it?”

Athos awkwardly pulled d'Artagnan's phone out of his pocket and saw Porthos' name on the screen. He immediately pressed the green button and put it to his ear.

“Porthos, please tell me you've found him.”

“No, not yet. Where are you?”

“Following a van. It might not be anything but I saw it head out of the car-park and after Gilles used a van to attack me...we're following it just to make sure, but Aramis is probably just in the court-house.”

Athos was trying to stop Porthos from panicking but wished that he could believe his own words.

“Well I haven't found him yet. But I was thinking...maybe he wanted to hear Marsac testify. I mean I never even asked him if he did. Maybe he wanted to so yeah...I don't know. He might be here. I'll keep looking.”

God I hope that is the case, Athos silently thought.

“Check he's not with Constance as well. Call me if you find him.”

“Yeah...you too,” Porthos said. “Be careful, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too,” Athos said and hung-up. He stared down at the phone for a moment, privately willing himself to stay composed. Porthos had sounded so calm and Athos needed to be the same. Having a panic attack wasn't going to help Aramis.

“Athos, keep telling the ARU's where we are,” d'Artagnan reminded him so Athos picked up to radio to do just that which focused him at least, he needed a job to do.

They were now almost right behind the van but there were no windows in the back so they couldn't see if anyone was inside. They were, however, now close enough to see who was driving it at least and when the van turned a corner they managed to get a good look.

“It's him! It's that big fucker who was with Gilles!” D'Artagnan cried out. “No Aramis though, but no Gilles either.”

“Which means Gilles could be in the back...”

“Or he might have taken his own car. He might have taken his own car, Athos.”

Athos wanted to believe it but he just couldn't. He just knew that Aramis was in there, right in front of them, in the back of the van and probably terrified. Athos wanted to do nothing more than ask d'Artagnan to slam into the van, consequences be damned. He needed to get to Aramis.

“Delta two-five, this is Romeo One,” the voice on the radio forced Athos to concentrate again. “We're now right behind you and Romeo Four will soon be up ahead just a couple of minutes away. Do you advise we stop the vehicle, over?”

Athos glanced in their rear-view mirror and saw a black unmarked police car with two men sitting in front. Athos didn't have a clue what to do. To stop the vehicle, which was what he really wanted to do, could potentially cause Gilles to panic and hurt Aramis. But, to sit back and wait for the vehicle to get to where-ever it was going and then jump it, would give Gilles more time to hurt Aramis. Either way didn't seem to have a good outcome for Aramis. Athos was aware that he was struggling to made the sensible decision, he was too emotional about it all.

“Romeo One, it's probably best you take the lead. You're more of an expert in pursuits than I am. We believe that there is one adult male driving with potentially a second adult male in the back of the van with the kidnap victim...” Athos went on to describe all three of them the best he could but, when he described Aramis he had to hold back the tears. If something was happening to Aramis right now in the back of that van with them sitting right behind it...he'd never forgive himself.

“Roger that, Delta two-five, Romeo One taking charge of the pursuit. This road is too busy, I recommend following behind until they pull off into somewhere quieter where we'll have more control over the situation.”

“Roger that,” Athos said into the radio although he felt reluctant to continue waiting but Deacon knew what he was doing.

“Roger that,” came the extra voice of Roger Four.

“Is that Deacon?” D'Artagnan asked. “He's the coolest cop in the whole of Paris. He'll help us get Aramis. He's the shit.”

Athos would have assumed that being 'the shit' was a bad thing but he wasn't in the right frame of mine to ponder 'youth' vocabulary.

“Just...concentrate on following the van,” Athos ordered although it was needless as d'Artagnan was doing a good job. Athos sat back in his chair, heaving in some air upon realising that he was starting to feel dizzy. His ribs protested and he flinched in reaction to the sharp pain but his injuries were the last thing on his mind right now. Except...

“D'Artagnan, when we stop the van, will you go to Aramis? If he's in there, can you go to him? He'll calm down if he sees your face. I won't be-able to get out quickly enough.”

“Of course I will,” d'Artagnan said reassuringly although Athos didn't feel very reassured. Please don't let him be in there, Athos prayed silently. Let him be back at the court-house, let Porthos find him safe and well. Please let me be wrong.

The van pulled off the main road and Athos' heart began to pound furiously. The radio crackled back into life, Deacon was guiding the other armed response car to meet them a little further down the road.

“This is our chance, we need to do it now before we go into any residential areas,” Deacon's voice suggested. “Roger Four, you stop them in front. Delta Two-Five, go around the side and stay in the car if you aren't armed. We'll take the back. All understood?”

Deacon was organising the stop. Athos didn't feel ready for it at all but he wanted to get to Aramis if he was in there. They had been following the van for a good twenty minutes, they had to end it. Athos waited for Deacon to make the call, the couple of minutes it took felt like forever.

“Go, go, go!” Deacon shouted into the radio and, suddenly, d'Artagnan slammed his foot onto the accelerator, so hard that they almost flew past the van itself which was coming to a screeching halt. But d'Artagnan promptly broke as well and they ended up right alongside the van. The selt-belt constricted Athos' broken ribs so painfully that he momentarily couldn't breathe. d'Artagnan, despite being told to stay in the car, jumped straight out before Athos had a chance to stop him.

“Put your hands up! Get out of the van! Put your hands where I can see them!”

There was a lot of yelling but Athos couldn't see anything because their car was on the wrong side of the van. He took in a couple of shallow breaths just to get air into his lungs again, his arms gripping tightly onto the car-seat.

“Hands up where I can see them! Get out of the van!”

Athos couldn't stand it any longer, he pushed open the car-door and squeezed himself out between the car and the van. It hurt to stand, the ground beneath his feet immediately started to spin but he held himself up against the car with his good arm and willed the dizziness to pass.

He began to walk, or stagger, in the small gap between the van and the car. He eventually made it around the back of the van. On the pavement ahead there was a person on the ground, an officer had his knee in the man's spine, holding him down as he cuffed his hands together around his back. Deacon was standing over them with a gun pointed at the man's head.

“This is insane!” The man was shouting. “I haven't done anything! What are you doing?”

It was Gilles. Athos recongised the voice. So Gilles had been in the back after all which meant that...

“No,” Athos whispered to himself, stumbling and staggering around the side of the van, holding onto it as he went. “Please...” Please let him be okay.

The other two armed police had the driver pinned to the front of the van but Athos ignored that commotion because the van side-door was open and he needed to look inside.

“Aramis?” He called and, with one more step, he could finally see inside. He saw the back of d'Artagnan first crouching down. Then Athos spotted who he was crouching in front of...Aramis.

“Aramis!”

Aramis looked up. His face was covered in glistening wet tears but he was moving and breathing and, oh god, he was alive. Aramis hurriedly moved past d'Artagnan and headed straight for Athos. He threw himself out of the van at Athos who caught him and, despite stumbling back, he managed to get a good grip of Aramis and didn't let go.

“You're okay,” Athos said, squeezing Aramis as tightly as he could, not caring how many of his ribs he was re-cracking in the process. “You're safe now, I promise. You're okay.” He whispered to Aramis whilst his own tears began to flow.

******************************

The familiar noise of gravel cracking underneath the car-tires didn't fill Athos with the usual sense of dread but this time he had a different emotion...relief. Porthos pulled up right in front of the large stone manor house and turned the engine off.

“We're here,” he said needlessly, yet it was a statement which felt quiet powerful in the current circumstances.

“I'll get the bags.”

Porthos opened the car door and got out, Hubert immediately appeared from somewhere to assist. One of the back car-doors opened as well and Athos heard Frodo jump out. The dog immediately went racing off into the expansive gardens with his tail wagging.

He assumed that Aramis wasn't far behind behind Frodo but Athos took his time in getting out. He still felt very achy and stiff although his body was mending slowly. He managed to stand, somehow, outside the car where Hubert smiled across at him.

“It's good to have you back again so soon, Maître Athos.”

“Thank you, Hubert,” Athos said kindly. It felt strangely good to be back. “Is mother here?”

“She's currently out shopping.”

That didn't surprise Athos. Although she had been accommodating when he had asked for the favour, he didn't actually expect her to be anything but her usual selfish...

“...buying fresh fruit for you all I believe.”

Fruit? Since when did his mother buy any sort of food at all? That was odd but Athos brushed it off as he was distracted by the way Aramis was standing very still staring out at the garden. So, whilst Porthos and Hubert fussed with the bags, Athos slowly and carefully made his way over. Aramis appeared to be lost in a world of his own and almost jumped when he finally noticed Athos standing alongside him.

“Athos! You're not meant...you shouldn't be walking!”

“I'm fine, Aramis,” Athos pointed out but Aramis had already gone, rushing off to fetch the wheelchair.

So Athos was left there by himself, staring out across the gardens where he had played as a boy, watching Frodo pee on the roses. He hadn't anticipated that he'd ever come back to the house. But, when Captain Treville had finished his thirty-minute long angry rant, he ordered them to take some time off and coming to the de la Fere mansion felt like the logical solution. They needed to get Aramis out of Paris and Athos needed a place to recover. So they were back at the house, again, with his mother, again. His memory rewinded to their last visit...

_“Get out! How dare you speak to me like that and how dare you do that underneath my roof. I want them both out and I want you out and don't you ever come back. You will not have this house, you will not have a cent of my money.”_

Well screw you, father, Athos thought silently as he stared out across at the view. Because here I am once again with my boyfriends and with the wife you've abandoned. So screw you.

Aramis forced Athos to sit in the wheelchair and then had a rough time trying to push it across the gravel but Athos kept his mouth shut and just let Aramis try. Aramis had been distant with them since his day in court. He didn't want to talk about testifying or what had happened afterwards in the van. Unfortunately Gilles just claimed that Aramis had come willingly and the CCTV didn't give a clear picture of what had happened so they had to let Gilles go. Porthos immediately filed for a restraining order on Aramis' behalf but Athos suspected that it wouldn't make any difference. If Gilles wanted to find Aramis, he would. That's why getting out of Paris was the best thing to do. He just wished that Aramis would talk to them about it instead of keeping it all inside.

It didn't help that Porthos had been acting cold as well. Athos knew that Porthos was blaming himself for everything and he couldn't seem to get Porthos to snap out of it. In fact everything was falling apart, they all were. They were together physically but, emotionally, they had never been more apart. That's why Ninon would be coming to see them, even though they were miles out of Paris, but she had still agreed to come. Athos had called her in desperation, he had almost been in tears on the phone. She'd sort them out, she had to.

Athos explained to Hubert about Ninon and how she would be arriving in a taxi the following morning. Hubert nodded and reminded Athos that his mother had arranged for a nurse to check on him every morning and evening. Athos didn't feel like he needed a nurse but knew better than to argue considering he was grateful that his mother hadn't hesitated about coming back to the house to open it up and let them stay in it for a while. She probably saw it as revenge on her estranged husband but, whatever the reason, Athos was grateful to her, not that he'd ever tell her.

Hubert and Porthos carried the cases upstairs leaving Athos and Aramis alone.

“How are you going to get up the stairs?” Aramis asked, puzzled. Despite his refusal to talk about what had happened over the past few days, Aramis was now talking at least, so things were going in the right direction.

“I don't know. You'll have to help me, I suppose.”

He looked up at Aramis hopefully. Aramis had bags underneath his slightly blood-shot eyes. He hadn't shared a bed with them since the court day, choosing to sleep in the spare room with Frodo. It hurt Athos not to be-able to hold Aramis at night but he hadn't pushed Aramis on it. But now, more than ever, he wanted to touch Aramis and have him close again.

“Do you want to go to bed now?” Aramis asked. “Have a nap?”

“No, no, I'm fine. Perhaps I could just rest on a couch?”

Aramis looked thoughtful about it but eventually nodded. Athos was soon being pushed around the house until they found a room which was satisfactory according to Aramis. Athos manoeuvred himself onto the couch and Aramis covered him with a blanket.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Yes,” Athos responded then instinctively reached out to grab Aramis' arm before he moved away. “Aramis, we're safe here, okay? No-one will know that we're here. We're...” At Aramis' surprised expression Athos reluctantly let go of Aramis' arm. “I just wanted you to know that.”

Aramis nodded but he still had a weird look on his face. Athos was finding that he wasn't as good at reading Aramis' as he once was. Aramis was starting to become a stranger to him.

“Do you want a drink?”

Athos shook his head at the question and just sunk back against the large cushions. He didn't want a drink, he wanted Aramis and Porthos back. He wanted things to be back to the way they were before everything went wrong.

He woke up to the sound of his mother's voice which confused him in his sleepy state.

“He didn't say that he was this bad!”

“He didn't want you to worry,” Porthos was explaining.

Athos blinked his eyes open and promptly discovered that he now had a very sore neck just to add to everything else.

“Worry? I wouldn't have worried but I would have gotten him out of that useless hospital for poor people and put him into a private one where they actually care about their patients and know what they're doing. Why didn't you tell me how bad he was?”

“He didn't want me to.”

“Leave Porthos alone,” Athos interrupted groggily. Porthos had enough guilt weighing him down, he didn't want his mother adding to it.

“Darling, I'm not having a go at Porthos. I just wish that you two had told me how unwell you were.”

“I'm not unwell,” Athos pointed out and turned his head to search for her in the large room. She was still wearing a green coat which she had probably gone out in. Her hair was different, it had more life to it and her skin was glowing in a way it hadn't seen in a long-time. Much to Athos' confusion, she looked healthier than before. Perhaps the divorce proceedings were going well.

“Well you don't look well, darling. You look like...”

“Urgh, I don't want to know.”

Athos groaned as he rolled onto his side slightly to sort out some of the stiffness which only caused his ribs to grumble but the pain wasn't as bad as it had been a few days ago.

“Well...” She appeared to stand up straighter. “It's a good thing you're here now. I've hired more staff so you'll be well looked-after.”

“Why have you hired more staff?” Athos asked with a raised eyebrow. He felt like he was still dreaming, or perhaps he always felt that way around his mother.

“Because I decided that, if your father's mistress is just after his money, I might as well spend as much of it as I can whilst I still can.”

She smiled at Porthos who gave her a small nod of approval back.

“I'll let you all settle in and rest. Join me for dinner in a couple of hours. We're having Italian.”

She turned and left the room. It went quiet so Athos glanced up at Porthos.

“I'm starting to regret my suggestion about coming here...”

“No, don't,” Porthos huffed. “She's entertaining and this place...well it's just huge and perfect for getting away from it all. It was a good idea.”

That was the nicest thing Porthos had said to him in days so Athos decided to take it.

“Where's Aramis?” he asked curiously. Aramis had been there when he fell asleep and now Aramis was gone.

“He's in the library. He wanted to be on his own, he said.” Porthos sighed loudly and walked over to an arm-chair where he promptly sat down. “I don't even know how to behave around him anymore.”

“I know.” Athos looked at Porthos sympathetically. He felt the same. “He just needs time.”

Porthos shook his head adamantly. “No, he's back to how he was when we first met him. Not telling us stuff. He's back to that again. I thought we were past all of that. Remember how long it took us to get him to talk about Father Vincent? It's like that again but we should be past that now. He should be-able to open up to us and talk to us.”

“What, like you and I are?” Athos pointed out. “This is the most you've spoken to me since Thursday.”

Porthos turned and stared at Athos for a while, as if questioning if that accusation was true or not.

“I know, I'm sorry. It...I've shut down a bit, I know. I didn't mean to.”

“You don't have to be sorry I just...I need you back, Porthos.”

Porthos nodded slowly, then lounged back in the large leather chair and looked up at the ceiling.

“I've just been dealing with a lot of stuff in my head I guess. A lot of guilt.”

“You shouldn't...”

“That's why I haven't talked to you about it because I know you'll say none of it was my fault. But it was. I wasn't there for you or him. I failed you both.”

“Porthos, you...”

Porthos' head snapped around again and he looked across at Athos almost angrily.

“See! This is why...you don't listen to me.”

“I am listening to you!” Athos protested.

“No you're not, you're just interrupting.”

Porthos sighed and pushed himself up from the armchair.

“I'm going to go and unpack.”

Athos sighed after Porthos left, well aware of how he had just messed up again. Or perhaps they were all just on-edge, they clearly weren't able to communicate like adults at the moment.

Yet it was nearly Monday so it wouldn't be long until the jury would be back with their verdict. They had to be strong and together in that moment, just in case it was bad news. Constance had stayed for the rest of the trial and reported back on Marsac's acting performance, including his claims that he had only brought the brothels to help people get off the streets. That the money which appeared in his bank account was from the madame's paying rent and that, of course, he loved Aramis dearly and hadn't actually meant to hurt him. But Constance also added that Anne had torn him apart, especially about the amount of money he was earning from the brothels, and that the jury would be idiots if they didn't see through his ridiculous attempts at appearing to be innocent.

Only Athos knew that anything could happen, as it often did with court-cases. He wasn't going to just assume that the jury would do the right thing and find him guilty on all of the charges, as there was still a chance that they wouldn't. He was dreading the phone-call when they would finally find out.

He remained on the sofa until the gong sounded summoning them all to dinner. There was no-way that Athos was going to get changed so he just wobbled into the dining-room in his comfortable baggy trousers and over-sized sweater (which actually belonged to Porthos).

The table was full of pasta, pizza, mozzarella, tomatoes, olives and garlic bread. Once again it was enough to feed an entire village and some young man Athos had never seen before in his life, still appeared to be bringing out more. His mother was sitting at the head of the table, she had dressed up and now wore pearl earrings and a necklace. Porthos was also there, sitting close to her. He briefly glanced at Athos as Athos came in.

“Where's your wheelchair?” he asked with a slightly annoyed grumble.

“I can't push myself around with one arm,” Athos pointed out, waving his plastered arm to make a point. “I'd go in circles.”

Athos had meant for the comment to be humorous but it only made Porthos look down at his lap guilty.

“Sorry, I should have come to get you.”

Athos hadn't meant to make Porthos feel bad so quickly added...

“No, the doctor said that I should try moving about as much as I can. It's good for me to walk about sometimes.”

Athos sat himself down before glancing across at the main door, wondering if Aramis could be coming. Clearly this mother had the same thought.

“Is your friend joining us?”

“I don't know,” Athos admitted. “But he would have heard the gong. He'll turn up if he's hungry.”

The mother stared at him in a way which made him feel momentarily uncomfortable but she eventually closed her eyes.

“I'll say grace.”

Once grace had been offered they were all allowed to tuck in but Athos didn't feel very hungry with Aramis missing. He stared across at the door once again, waiting to see if Aramis would appear.

“Shall I send François to fetch him?” his mother offered.

“No it's...it's fine,” Athos mumbled and turned back. He briefly glanced across at Porthos who was also looking worried. But then attempted to distract himself by filling up his plate despite the way leaning forward made his ribs hurt. They all ate slowly and in silence for a couple of minutes until his mother, never one for diplomacy, decided to address the elephant in the room.

“What have you all fallen out about?”

Athos, despite being used to her, was still shocked by the sudden question. It almost made him drop his olive.

“We...we haven't fallen...I mean it's...I just...”

Her head turned to Porthos.

“Why don't you tell me, Porthos? My son has clearly lost the ability to formulate a complete sentence.”

Porthos was less hesitant about being honest.

“We haven't fallen out, it's just a lot of things have happened. Athos was attacked and then Aramis was kidnapped right after he testified in a court trial. Thankfully we got him back pretty quickly but it has all just had an impact on us. We're all a little bit shaken up. That's why we're here, to get away from it all.”

“Get away from Paris, you mean?” she asked but then turned back to Athos. “I told you the grime of Paris would get under your skin, darling. First your marriage fails, then you became gay and now this. I warned you.”

Athos couldn't hide his eye-roll.

“Mother, Paris has nothing to do with the fact...anyway I didn't 'become' gay I was always bisexual...look, I'm not having this conversation with you right now.”

“Well you're the one who came to me,” she pointed out and then had a nibble on her pasta.

“Not to discuss all of my problems with you, I assure you,” Athos grumbled and shoved pizza into his mouth because a mouth-full of pizza meant that he didn't have to talk to his mother. But Porthos didn't appear to get the memo.

“Aramis has just been through a lot, so we've giving him some space if that's what he needs.”

“Well he needs food as well. François, be a dear and plate up some food and take it to Aramis. He'll probably be in the library.”

Her new waiter, or whatever he was, obediently came over and began to pile food up onto a plate. He even bowed at Athos' mother before he left the room.

“Why was Aramis testifying in court?” she then asked. “I thought he wasn't in the police, isn't he a servant?”

“He's a waiter,” Athos corrected her with his mouth half-full, trying to control his annoyance. “It's a long story and I don't want to go into it.” He decided to try a bit of deflection. “What's happening with the divorce? Are you still living with your brother?”

“My brother can only put up with me for so long so I may move back here for the time-being and the lawyers are working on it. Your father is being unusually compliant because he just wants to get rid of me. It looks like he'll keep his business and his pension but I'll get a generous portion of his cash fortune to see me through. I don't know about this house, that hasn't been decided yet.”

Athos could see the sadness in her eyes about losing the house but Athos couldn't help but wonder if maybe it was for the best. If Athos wasn't going to be given it, and he didn't want it, they had no other children to pass it down to anyway. The de le Fere mansion would be obsolete soon enough.

“I'm sure you'll have enough money to buy a nice place in the country somewhere,” Athos offered, hoping that he could give her some comfort. He couldn't stand his mother but there was a small part of him that cared, especially after discovering how awful his father had been to her.

“Yes, I will. And perhaps even keep a maid and Hubert.”

“Yes, heaven forbid you lose your servants,” Athos mumbled but then allowed himself to smile a little because he could picture it, his mother in a little country cottage still going around acting like the Lady of the Manor.

“I'll try not to spend it all so that, when I go, you can have whatever is left.”

The commented surprised Athos.

“I...you don't have to. I mean don't worry about me.”

“No, darling, if your good-for-nothing father is going to hand his business over to that whore and her son, then you'll damn well get some of the money I got off him at least. He has screwed us both over that father of yours. Neither of us deserve to suffer for it.”

“I'm not suffering, mother. Porthos and I both work. We have to be sensible with money but we're not struggling.”

“You shouldn't have to work at all. Your work is why you ended up in hospital.”

Athos just didn't have the energy to argue with his mother about it so he just concentrated on eating for a while, which was still an effort with broken ribs but his appetite was back at least. François returned without the plate, so Aramis must have taken it.

Athos was keen to check on Aramis after dinner so, as soon as they had finished stuffing themselves with profiteroles and Porthos was busy helping François clear away, because he couldn't just sit there and let someone serve him, Athos went off in search of Aramis. The library felt like the obvious place to look but it was empty. Now wishing that he had used his wheelchair, Athos continued to slowly search around all of the rooms. He finally, and somewhat out-of-breath, found Aramis in the music room staring out of the window.

Athos approached cautiously, not wanting to make Aramis jump again.

“Did you manage to eat?” he asked as he got closer, to make sure that Aramis knew he was there. Aramis briefly turned to look over his shoulder and there was even a small smile.

“Yes. I'm sorry.”

“For what?” Athos questioned, his good arm cradling his sore ribs. He desperately wanted to sit down so he went over to the bay window and sat on the window-seat. It wasn't overly comfortable but it was a seat. And, with Aramis staring out of that window, at least Athos could now see his face.

“For not being-able to eat with you.”

“Oh don't be sorry about that. You can do whatever you like whilst we're here. I'm going to need lots of time-out from my mother as well.”

Aramis smiled again, looking down at Athos.

“She's not so bad. She's nice.”

“You think everyone is nice. I assure you, in this case, you are very wrong.”

Aramis just snorted with amusement which made Athos' skin tingle. It was good to see Aramis happy again. Perhaps this house had worked a miracle already.

“Okay, Athos,” Aramis humoured him and then the smile disappeared and his eyes were back to looking out of the window. Athos found himself not knowing what to say. He wanted to talk to Aramis about how he was feeling, ask about what had happened in the van, but he found himself not even knowing where to start.

“Ninon's coming in the morning,” he said instead. Falling back once again on hoping that Ninon will sort them all out. “It'll be good if we could try...to talk about stuff.”

Aramis nodded his head, which was better than protesting. But then, before he could stop himself, Athos just blurted something out.

“Will you share a bed with us tonight?”

He had no-idea where that had come from, he had just said it without thinking. But it was frustrating him, more than ever, not being-able to hold Aramis at night. Aramis looked thoughtful for a while.

“I don't want to hurt you.”

“Why would you hurt me?” Athos asked confused.

“Your ribs, your head, your arm...”

“Are all getting better. Aramis, the beds here are huge. We'll all easily fit. Please, it would mean a lot to Porthos and I. We miss you.”

Aramis appeared to continue to think about it but eventually nodded his head and that nod sent a wave of happiness surging through Athos' entire body.

A nurse came that evening to check on Athos but, apart from that fact he had probably done too much walking around which had made his ribs sore, he didn't have much to talk to her about. He knew that his arm would be in plaster for another few weeks, he'd have to be very careful with his head for a while and it would take time for his ribs to fully heal, but at least he could move around and eat and he didn't feel as dizzy as he had before. Mostly he was just pleased to be out of the hospital and the nurse seemed satisfied with his progress. She made sure that he had enough pain-killers and told him that she'd be back in the morning. Athos felt that it was unnecessary to be seen twice a day but he knew better than to grumble about it.

That night Athos almost shook with joy when the bedroom door opened and Aramis came in wearing just a pair of jeans and carrying the dog-bed with a sheepish look. Frodo followed him into the room.

“Do you mind...I mean is it okay? It's just that Frodo might be scared without me and I didn't want to leave him...”

“It's fine,” Porthos said immediately. If Porthos was feeling half of the emotions Athos was feeling right now, Athos knew that anything and everything would be fine now that Aramis had made the decision to be with them again.

Aramis got Frodo settled and then came over to where Porthos and Athos had already got comfortable in the large bed. He undid his jeans in front of them and Athos did feel a twinge of arousal in his groin, but he tried to ignore it, nothing was going to happen, he wasn't well enough anyway. But Aramis did appear to be putting on a show for them, he gave them a lop-sided smirk as he dropped his jeans and began to tug at his underwear suggestively.

“Aramis,” Porthos warned, obviously sensing the same thing as Athos. “We're just going to sleep, you know that right?”

Judging by the sudden change in Aramis' expression, it implied that he didn't know that.

“Oh, I thought that...”

“What did you think?” Porthos asked. “That we wanted you here for sex? Is that what you thought?”

Aramis shrugged half-heartedly and Athos' joy immediately turned to sadness. What had he said to make Aramis think that?

“Come here,” Porthos requested, pushing back the covers and opening up his arms towards Aramis. Aramis crawled onto the bed and came across until he was dragged in Porthos' arms. Porthos squeezed him tightly, tugging Aramis against his chest.

“Please don't go back to thinking that again. Please don't,” Porthos was whispering. “We love you.”

Athos watched, feeling somewhat useless and awkward but Aramis allowed himself to be held for a few seconds before pulling back, straddling Porthos' lap he ran his fingers through Porthos' hair and then went in for a kiss. Porthos kissed him back for a little while until the kiss grew more desperate and Aramis' hands moved down towards Porthos' underwear. Porthos grabbed Aramis by both wrists and tugged his arms away.

“No, stop. Aramis, I don't want to have sex right now.”

Aramis whined and tried to lean forward to kiss Porthos again.

“Aramis, stop it,” Porthos said forcefully but Aramis wasn't listening. He was trying to wiggle free of Porthos' grip but Porthos had grabbed further up his arms to hold him away and wasn't letting go.

“Aramis, what's the matter?” Athos asked, twisting painfully on the bed, trying to reach out to touch Aramis to get him to calm down.

“Please,” Aramis begged. “Please, I want it.”

“Well I don't!” Porthos was straining as he tried to keep Aramis at bay, thankfully Porthos was stronger, but Aramis was still trying to get free but to do what? Force Porthos to have sex with him? Athos moved to get up onto his knees, flinching in pain as he did so, but things were getting out of hand.

“Aramis, calm down and listen to Porthos.”

“Please, you can fuck me nice and hard,” Aramis said, ignoring Athos' pleas completely.

“No!” Porthos sounded angry but Athos knew that he was just scared. His arms were visibly shaking as he kept a firm grip on Aramis.

“Aramis!” Athos yelled, trying to get Aramis to pay attention to him. “Stop this, whatever you're doing, stop it. Porthos doesn't want to have sex with you right now. He just wants to hold you, we both just want you with us.”

Aramis let out a sob, his eyes filling with tears. “But no-one can love me. No-one ever will. I'm too broken.”

“You're not...” Aramis' words felt like a physical hit to Athos' face. Where had that come from?

“...you're not broken,” Athos whispered and watched as the fight finally left Aramis. He slumped and dropped heavily against Porthos' chest. Porthos immediately wrapped his arms around him but glanced across at Athos from above Aramis' head, face full of concern. Athos felt the same.

“Why do you think that you're broken, Aramis? Where has that come from?”

“Gilles said,” came the admission and anger began to bubble up inside Athos. He should have known.

“Now you listen to me, Aramis. Gilles is a lying shit-bag who was just trying to punish you for testifying against Marsac. Whatever he said, everything he said, it was all lies, Aramis, all of it. He was trying to scare you and upset you.”

Aramis gave a little nod against Porthos' chest but tears were starting to fill his eyes.

“Please don't believe any of it,” Athos whispered, leaning forward he pressed a kiss against Aramis' forehead. “Just remember all of the things we've told you about how much we love you and all the reasons why.”

Aramis was listening but his eyes were also closing. He was clearly exhausted and had finally run out of energy. But he looked secure in Porthos' arms and Athos knew that it wasn't the right time to try and get a decent conversation out of him.

“Can you reach the tissues?” Athos asked Porthos, his ribs were not happy, his sides were throbbing. Thankfully Porthos managed to reach the tissues without having to move too much and passed one to Athos. Athos carefully wiped the tears away from Aramis' eyes. Aramis sniffed and curled up more against Porthos' chest. Once his face was dry, Athos pulled the covers up to tuck both Porthos and Aramis in.

“Are you okay like that?” he asked Porthos but had a feeling that Porthos wasn't going to let go even if he was uncomfortable.

“Yes,” Porthos insisted but did sink down against the pillows a little. Athos lay back in the bed himself but couldn't sleep. He spent most of the night watching Aramis as he slept curled up on Porthos' chest, Athos wondered what else Gilles had said to him. Even when Porthos fell asleep himself, his arms flopping out across the bed, snoring gently, Aramis remained curled up like he was trying to make himself small. Perhaps he wanted to go under the covers and not come out again. The thought upset Athos.

Athos assumed that it was morning by the whispers in the room, even though he wasn't entirely sure if he had slept at all. They were trying to organise having showers and taking Frodo out for a walk, Porthos sounded rather insistent about going for a walk with them. Athos suspected that Porthos wasn't going to let Aramis out of his sight now after the night before. More whispers and eventually something was obviously decided because the bed began to lurch and soon felt cold and empty. Athos decided that he might as well pretend to still be asleep and continue to doze considering he wasn't in a fit state to walk the dog anyway.

Once they had all left, Athos did rouse himself enough to get up and head into the en-suite. He even managed to have a hot shower, although washing his hair was so painful that he barely managed to do it. When he came out again he reluctantly swallowed some painkillers down with a glass of water, not wanting to be distracted by any pain once Ninon arrived.

He was just starting to get dressed when Porthos came back in.

“Morning,” he said and pulled off his thick sweater, hanging it up in the wardrobe.

“Where's Aramis?” Athos asked, wondering why he hadn't come back as well, starting to panic.

“He's downstairs eating breakfast with your mother.”

Porthos came over and knelt beside the bed, helping Athos put his socks on. Athos said nothing, he just sat there grateful for the assistance and received a kiss on the knee.

“How are you doing?” Porthos asked, rubbing Athos' leg and looking up at him.

“Do you mean injury-wise or last night-wise?”

“Both.”

“I feel fine,” Athos lied. “But last night was...worrying.”

“Yeah,” Porthos sighed. “That's one word for it. I tried to talk to him a bit more just now when we walked Frodo but he wasn't talking again. I mean he was talking, but not about what happened on Thursday. He kept on changing the subject.”

Athos didn't really know what to say because he didn't know what to do about it either.

“Ninon is coming this morning. Perhaps she'll be-able to help.”

“Yeah I hope so,” Porthos muttered before standing up and dramatically stretching. “You hungry?”

“Not really but I think we should save Aramis from my mother, so let's head down.”

Porthos helped Athos downstairs, found the wheelchair and then pushed him across the hallway where the door to the dining-room was open and they could hear the conversation from inside.

“So who did kidnap you?” his mother was asking and Athos felt a tightening in his chest.

“A bad man,” came Aramis' response.

“Which bad man? The one you were testifying against?”

Porthos began to push faster, obviously feeling as panicked as Athos was about her line of questioning.

“No, he was friends with the one I was testifying against.”

“Oh I see.”

“But Athos found me.”

Porthos paused for a moment forcing Athos to glance up at him. He couldn't read the expression on Porthos' face but he wanted to get into the dining-room quickly before his mother continued.

“Porthos?” he whispered.

“I'm glad he's good for something,” his mother's voice said.

Porthos abruptly shoved Athos forward again, nearly sending him flying out of his wheelchair but then they entered the dining-room to the unusual sight of his mother smiling at them.

“Ah and there they both are. We were beginning to wonder if you two had decided to forgo the most important meal of the day.”

Athos kept silent as Porthos pushed him up to the table and then promptly abandoned them all. Something had upset Porthos but Athos wasn't in a position to run after him. Anyway, he was too busy being silently impressed that his mother had just managed to get Aramis to talk more about the kidnapping in five minutes than they had in days. It was, however, a relief that the conversation soon changed to the exciting things happening in Pinon, including the market now occurring three times a week instead of just two. They both politely listened and Aramis even asked a few curious questions. Athos was starting to get the feeling that Aramis actually liked his mother, which was odd.

After breakfast Athos mentioned to his mother that someone was going to be coming round to see them all . His mother claimed to have a luncheon date so she would be out of the house. Privacy wasn't a big problem in such a large house but discovering that his mother and Ninon wouldn't meet did mean that Athos would avoid having to facilitate an awkward introduction.

Ninon came five minutes early in a taxi and they soon found themselves sitting one of large drawing-rooms which his mother used to host parties in. Athos moved out of the wheelchair and sat in a proper chair, just to get a bit more comfortable. Ninon was sitting facing them all. She hadn't said anything about having to come all of the way out to Pinon or the size of the house, she just focused on the three of them with a slightly concerned expression on her face.

“So, you've all been through rather a lot over these past few days, I gather?”

Athos, who had asked her to come, nodded. “Thank you for coming all of the way out here to see us.”

“It's not a problem, Athos. Although it's hard for me to know where to begin. So where would you like to begin?”

She looked at them all but they just all remained silent, thus rather demonstrating the problem. Aramis was looking at his feet and Porthos still seemed to be upset about something. Athos soon realised that he'd have to be the one to go first.

“We're having issues...communicating with each other,” he explained.

“Why?” Ninon asked curiously.

“I don't know,” Athos pointed out because, If he knew why, then he would have fixed it. “We're just not talking properly.”

“Yes, you explained that over the phone and now I can sense it in the room. Okay, Porthos, would you mind standing up and going over to stand in the corner by the window over there?”

She pointed to the corner of the room. Porthos glanced across at it, frowned but then got up out of his chair anyway and walked across the carpet.

“Aramis, can you do the same thing for me? But can you stand in the opposite corner from Porthos, the one by the door?”

Aramis, ever obedient, didn't hesitate before standing up and walking over to the corner where upon he leaned against the wall looking forlorn.

“I won't ask you to move, Athos, given the circumstances. Right, so here we are. I think we should stay like this for a while, don't you think?”

There was silence in the room and Athos felt confused. He wasn't sure how this would help.

“Why?” Porthos eventually asked, breaking the awkward silence.

“Do you not like it over there, Porthos?”

“I'd rather be sitting back down,” Porthos grumbled.

“Why?”

“Because I feel like a prick standing over there,” came the response which made Athos smile a little despite himself.

“Well you don't look like a prick, although you do look rather lonely. Aramis, do you like it over there?”

Athos turned his head and watched as Aramis shook his furiously.

“No?” Ninon asked. “Why not?”

“I want to sit with Athos and Porthos,” Aramis explained in a whisper.

“No, I think this is better, don't you? Distance is a good thing.”

She stopped talking then and it went quiet again. Athos began to understand what she was doing but he didn't like it.

“It doesn't feel better,” he pointed out, no longer able to handle the silence either. He felt far too vulnerable sitting on his own with the other two so far away.

“Oh,” She faked surprise at his words. “So you don't think this is a good idea, then, Athos?”

“No, although I see what you're trying to show...”

“All I'm doing is showing you a physical representation of what you're all doing to each other emotionally. And none of you like it, do you?”

Athos shook his head slowly and suspected that Porthos and Aramis were doing the same thing.

“Then would you both like to come back and sit down and let's get this sorted, shall we?”

It only took a few seconds for Porthos and Aramis to come back over and sit back down. Athos felt relieved to have them back.

 


End file.
